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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Glenn Branca,
The Golliwogs,
Organ,
Fatback Band,
Aural Exciters,
Simply Red,
The Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Buzzcocks,
Hasil Adkins,
LL Cool J,
the Bar-Kays,
The Red Krayola,
Joyce Sims,
Albert Ayler,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter,
Arab on Radar,
Wolf Eyes,
Lindisfarne,
Ornette Coleman,
World's Most,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mad Mike,
Sällskapet,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Robert Wyatt,
Rapeman,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
The Martian,
Ossler,
Sonic Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Holt,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Clarke,
Panda Bear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.