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 Guyana and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Royal Trux 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Moby Grape,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smoke,
Lungfish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Misunderstood,
The Evens,
The Leaves,
Organ,
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mission of Burma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jawbox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Q65,
Echospace,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Von Mondo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Duran Duran,
John Holt,
Yellowson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
The Kinks,
Absolute Body Control,
kango's stein massive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
James White and The Blacks,
Severed Heads,
Lyres,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Thompson Twins,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gladiators,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
David McCallum,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.