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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Techniques to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Shuggie Otis,
Isaac Hayes,
Bob Dylan,
Scientists,
Brass Construction,
The Smiths,
The Leaves,
The Alarm Clocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pierre Henry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Buckinghams,
Gastr Del Sol,
Loose Ends,
Thee Headcoats,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Eric Copeland,
Brothers Johnson,
Simply Red,
Stiv Bators,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Wings,
The Pop Group,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
cv313,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moss Icon,
Livin' Joy,
Unwound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lungfish,
Drexciya,
ABC,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Byron Stingily,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Connie Case,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.