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 China and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gun Club,
Mission of Burma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boredoms,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Second Layer,
The Cramps,
OOIOO,
Dawn Penn,
Joyce Sims,
Nation of Ulysses,
Godley & Creme,
Black Sheep,
The Saints,
Gastr Del Sol,
Althea and Donna,
Depeche Mode,
The Black Dice,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxette,
Joe Finger,
Dark Day,
Mark Hollis,
In Retrospect,
Mad Mike,
Joey Negro,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jawbox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Faraquet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
World's Most,
Yellowson,
Johnny Clarke,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bad Manners,
It's A Beautiful Day,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
X-101,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sugar Minott,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.