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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soul II Soul to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
Suburban Knight,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Fatback Band,
Crime,
Magma,
Agent Orange,
Rosa Yemen,
Drexciya,
The Index,
Q and Not U,
The Cure,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Smooth,
Derrick May,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
The Remains,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joyce Sims,
Bronski Beat,
The Associates,
June of 44,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
L. Decosne,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Toni Rubio,
Sex Pistols,
Echospace,
Section 25,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Bananas,
Minutemen,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
The Moody Blues,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bluetip,
B.T. Express,
Animal Collective,
Fugazi,
Tubeway Army,
The Move,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Zero Boys,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.