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 Vietnam and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gun Club to the grunge 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
The Moody Blues,
Minny Pops,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Johnny Osbourne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Rekid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brick,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Lynne,
Sandy B,
The Cramps,
Gabor Szabo,
Half Japanese,
Roxette,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Robert Hood,
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
KRS-One,
Nik Kershaw,
Thompson Twins,
Wally Richardson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Isaac Hayes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
The Music Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Erasure,
Mission of Burma,
Barrington Levy,
John Lydon,
The Count Five,
Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kayak,
Unwound,
The Names,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Newcleus,
The Stooges,
Lower 48,
Pulsallama,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.