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 Tuvalu and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Nico to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
Urselle,
Hoover,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
EPMD,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Green,
Fear,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rakim,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ituana,
The Star Department,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
Marine Girls,
Derrick May,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Last Poets,
Alice Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cymande,
Magma,
Slick Rick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fatback Band,
Tom Boy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Audionom,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
Eric Copeland,
Lalo Schifrin,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Starr,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Mad Mike,
Kevin Saunderson,
Magazine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
cv313,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.