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 Eritrea and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultra Naté to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Mars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
Chrome,
Donald Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Accadde A,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
The Smoke,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Unwound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
R.M.O.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eddi Front,
Aural Exciters,
Joy Division,
Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
B.T. Express,
Surgeon,
Das Ding,
Patti Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yazoo,
Slick Rick,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
48th St. Collective,
Fatback Band,
Tomorrow,
Morten Harket,
Neu!,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Stiv Bators,
X-Ray Spex,
The Invisible,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.