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 Jordan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cal Tjader to the disco 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Hoover,
The Remains,
Quantec,
The Red Krayola,
Terry Callier,
Lebanon Hanover,
Babytalk,
The Index,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Cluster,
Joe Smooth,
Shuggie Otis,
Mark Hollis,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Unrelated Segments,
Isaac Hayes,
Absolute Body Control,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
Sällskapet,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cal Tjader,
Porter Ricks,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young,
Warren Ellis,
Barry Ungar,
Groovy Waters,
Ten City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rotary Connection,
John Coltrane,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brass Construction,
Max Romeo,
Roxy Music,
The Offenders,
Faust,
the Germs,
Albert Ayler,
Steve Hackett,
The Grass Roots,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.