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 Kuwait and from London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 The Doors to the techno 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Rakim,
X-101,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thee Headcoats,
Sound Behaviour,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
Lakeside,
Deadbeat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
Absolute Body Control,
Dark Day,
New Order,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
Skriet,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cure,
Black Pus,
10cc,
Eve St. Jones,
Josef K,
DJ Sneak,
The Smiths,
Sandy B,
Rekid,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lyres,
The Techniques,
Subhumans,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Anthony Braxton,
La Düsseldorf,
CMW,
The Durutti Column,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harpers Bizarre,
Negative Approach,
Cecil Taylor,
Wasted Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
Dead Boys,
John Foxx,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bronski Beat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.