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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the funk 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Nirvana,
Don Cherry,
The Vogues,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
The Buckinghams,
10cc,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ossler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronnie Foster,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Leaves,
Youth Brigade,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heaven 17,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
The Tremeloes,
Visage,
Agitation Free,
The Gun Club,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pierre Henry,
Barry Ungar,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson,
The Fuzztones,
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
Pantaleimon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Soft Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echospace,
Cameo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Pus,
Soul II Soul,
D'Angelo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sixth Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Wyatt,
Das Ding,
Idris Muhammad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.