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 Fiji and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
The Slits,
Intrusion,
Cameo,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Victims,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Khruangbin,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
In Retrospect,
EPMD,
Infiniti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Spoonie Gee,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Terry,
Essential Logic,
The Cure,
Joyce Sims,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Toni Rubio,
The Sound,
Quantec,
The Techniques,
Drexciya,
Sarah Menescal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots,
Tim Buckley,
Sun Ra,
The Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
U.S. Maple,
Buzzcocks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.