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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sight & Sound to the grunge 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dirtbombs,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
Marvin Gaye,
Parry Music,
cv313,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Duran Duran,
Aswad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fire Engines,
David Axelrod,
Groovy Waters,
Gang Starr,
Dawn Penn,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Section 25,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Todd Rundgren,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
Patti Smith,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Main Source,
The Stooges,
JFA,
Hashim,
The Blues Magoos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
D'Angelo,
Barbara Tucker,
Terry Callier,
Ice-T,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.