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 Belarus and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pharoah Sanders to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Wally Richardson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Bush Tetras,
John Coltrane,
Q65,
The Five Americans,
Joey Negro,
Rites of Spring,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sound Behaviour,
Pere Ubu,
Freddie Wadling,
Albert Ayler,
The Dirtbombs,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
Qualms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Yazoo,
Derrick Morgan,
The Music Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quadrant,
Kayak,
Technova,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Essential Logic,
Marine Girls,
Main Source,
Eden Ahbez,
Brass Construction,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül II,
the Slits,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
The Misunderstood,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Slackers,
Newcleus,
Moebius,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
In Retrospect,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.