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 Cape Verde and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Radio Birdman to the rock 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Sam Rivers,
The Divine Comedy,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Index,
The Golliwogs,
Metal Thangz,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Camouflage,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Moebius,
Tim Buckley,
The Real Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Drive Like Jehu,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yaz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
World's Most,
Unwound,
Das Ding,
The Vogues,
Maleditus Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
MDC,
The Black Dice,
Bad Manners,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Eve St. Jones,
Hot Snakes,
The Moody Blues,
Rites of Spring,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
The Happenings,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Judy Mowatt,
The Modern Lovers,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
X-101,
Joe Smooth,
Blancmange,
Mo-Dettes,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.