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 India and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 LL Cool J to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Mills,
Wasted Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masters at Work,
Alphaville,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thee Headcoats,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
PIL,
Morten Harket,
The Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lungfish,
the Slits,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gap Band,
The Fuzztones,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donald Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Carl Craig,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Juan Atkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Birthday Party,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
Donny Hathaway,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Make Up,
Reuben Wilson,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
B.T. Express,
John Lydon,
10cc,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
DJ Style,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.