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 Serbia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Scratch Acid to the grime 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Kaleidoscope,
Nik Kershaw,
ABBA,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
Section 25,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soul II Soul,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
John Cale,
Zero Boys,
Franke,
Funky Four + One,
Pulsallama,
Clear Light,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Standells,
Isaac Hayes,
Khruangbin,
Suburban Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions,
Unrelated Segments,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Finger,
Television,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
David Bowie,
The Saints,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.