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 Qatar and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 DJ Style to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Trojans,
Das Ding,
The Fugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neu!,
Piero Umiliani,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Monolake,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Shuggie Otis,
Mad Mike,
Brand Nubian,
Ohio Players,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Popol Vuh,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter and Kerry,
The Black Dice,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
Pantaleimon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alphaville,
The Motions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
F. McDonald,
Cecil Taylor,
Soulsonic Force,
Hoover,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
Echospace,
The Residents,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stereo Dub,
R.M.O.,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Loose Ends,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.