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 Lesotho and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Porter Ricks to the rock 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
AZ,
Buzzcocks,
Mandrill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hashim,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
Erasure,
Model 500,
The Walker Brothers,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
Depeche Mode,
Lower 48,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Evens,
Siglo XX,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor,
Barrington Levy,
The Zeros,
Scion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Green,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Slackers,
EPMD,
Avey Tare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nirvana,
The Monks,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pere Ubu,
In Retrospect,
Essential Logic,
Wally Richardson,
Barbara Tucker,
The American Breed,
Bang On A Can,
Brand Nubian,
Slave,
Radio Birdman,
Peter and Kerry,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.