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 Azerbaijan and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Black Moon to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mark Hollis,
Pierre Henry,
Morten Harket,
Kenny Larkin,
Graham Central Station,
Bizarre Inc.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Moon,
Faust,
Ornette Coleman,
Adolescents,
Monolake,
The Smoke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Davy DMX,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
The Angels of Light,
Flamin' Groovies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slits,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
Khruangbin,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra,
Cybotron,
Scott Walker,
Swell Maps,
Bauhaus,
Don Cherry,
Inner City,
Marvin Gaye,
Warsaw,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Franke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Shoche,
kango's stein massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bob Dylan,
Skriet,
The Smiths,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.