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 Laos and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Judy Mowatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kaleidoscope,
Moebius,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slick Rick,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
This Heat,
Make Up,
Mad Mike,
Rakim,
Henry Cow,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Joy Division,
Chrome,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nils Olav,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dual Sessions,
Erykah Badu,
Talk Talk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Colin Newman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Duran Duran,
Tom Boy,
R.M.O.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Velvet Underground,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marmalade,
Skriet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
Minutemen,
Bootsy Collins,
Cameo,
Eric Copeland,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.