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 San Marino and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Deakin,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
Moebius,
The Raincoats,
The Gap Band,
Pole,
KRS-One,
The Doors,
Camberwell Now,
David Bowie,
Gang Starr,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
Brick,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nils Olav,
The Monks,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Divine Comedy,
Essential Logic,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Mills,
Fatback Band,
Pulsallama,
The Cowsills,
The Neon Judgement,
E-Dancer,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
The Black Dice,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Supertramp,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Janne Schatter,
The Kinks,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Knickerbockers,
The Leaves,
Susan Cadogan,
Saccharine Trust,
Skarface,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Move,
Whodini,
Public Enemy,
Zapp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.