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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Niagra,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick May,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
The Gladiators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
KRS-One,
Monolake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
Silicon Teens,
10cc,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Cale,
Monks,
Yaz,
Whodini,
Little Man,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Essential Logic,
Yellowson,
Graham Central Station,
Aswad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bad Manners,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker,
Wally Richardson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gabor Szabo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
a-ha,
Jandek,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Hood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The J.B.'s,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.