Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mexico and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Remains to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Index,
Juan Atkins,
Royal Trux,
Dark Day,
AZ,
Interpol,
Whodini,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gories,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bluetip,
Amon Düül,
Ten City,
Babytalk,
Young Marble Giants,
Vainqueur,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Metal Thangz,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Divine Comedy,
48th St. Collective,
Mission of Burma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pagans,
June of 44,
Slave,
Organ,
Magma,
Kurtis Blow,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
Jandek,
Bill Wells,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q65,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
Kool Moe Dee,
Essential Logic,
Skaos,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soulsonic Force,
The Victims,
Panda Bear,
K-Klass,
Talk Talk,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.