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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Seeds to the crunk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Pagans,
Sam Rivers,
Lucky Dragons,
Altered Images,
Moby Grape,
Heaven 17,
Quadrant,
Reuben Wilson,
Zero Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
In Retrospect,
Vainqueur,
the Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Matthew Bourne,
Joyce Sims,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cowsills,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Velvet Underground,
Laurel Aitken,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Walker Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
The Moody Blues,
Eddi Front,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Newcleus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
Brick,
The Fall,
The Birthday Party,
Swans,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gap Band,
The Pretty Things,
CMW,
Bob Dylan,
Aural Exciters,
Radio Birdman,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Stetsasonic,
The Vogues,
Warsaw,
Pantaleimon,
Fear,
Aswad,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mo-Dettes,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.