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 Korea South and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the jazz 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
The Count Five,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
The United States of America,
Boz Scaggs,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Crash Course in Science,
Severed Heads,
Kenny Larkin,
a-ha,
Silicon Teens,
The Offenders,
Harpers Bizarre,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stereo Dub,
Davy DMX,
Danielle Patucci,
Grauzone,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Tommy Roe,
Cal Tjader,
David McCallum,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Ronan,
Barrington Levy,
Dual Sessions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Youth Brigade,
One Last Wish,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.