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 Indonesia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 the Slits to the funk 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Don Cherry,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fall,
The Smoke,
MDC,
Joyce Sims,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Suburban Knight,
The New Christs,
Minor Threat,
Rites of Spring,
Leonard Cohen,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
The Mummies,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barbara Tucker,
Reuben Wilson,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Al Stewart,
The Searchers,
Andrew Hill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mojo Men,
Funkadelic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland,
Absolute Body Control,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
The Moody Blues,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.