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 Togo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ten City,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
The Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
Amazonics,
Dual Sessions,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bad Manners,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Sheep,
L. Decosne,
Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
Mad Mike,
Niagra,
The Buckinghams,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Supertramp,
The Count Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Vladislav Delay,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magazine,
Essential Logic,
Soulsonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
X-102,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gladiators,
Blake Baxter,
Rakim,
Los Fastidios,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gun Club,
Donald Byrd,
Fluxion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick May,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.