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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Crooked Eye,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Make Up,
Deepchord,
Peter & Gordon,
Spoonie Gee,
The Birthday Party,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Sneak,
The Buckinghams,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
Saccharine Trust,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Newcleus,
Chrome,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sixth Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arcadia,
T.S.O.L.,
Byron Stingily,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare,
Fluxion,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Derrick Morgan,
Main Source,
K-Klass,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Yazoo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shoche,
Stockholm Monsters,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
The Skatalites,
Anakelly,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cal Tjader,
L. Decosne,
Country Teasers,
Amazonics,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.