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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Star Department,
Masters at Work,
The Zeros,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Warsaw,
Tres Demented,
Mo-Dettes,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Terry Callier,
Index,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Procol Harum,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
Average White Band,
Joe Finger,
Joey Negro,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Starr,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
Camberwell Now,
Fluxion,
Scan 7,
Make Up,
The Saints,
Pylon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Pus,
The Gladiators,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Janne Schatter,
The Gun Club,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dirtbombs,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.