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 Macedonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jacques Brel,
Darondo,
The American Breed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Con Funk Shun,
Harmonia,
Maurizio,
Soft Cell,
Quantec,
New York Dolls,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Infiniti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
the Germs,
Skriet,
Nick Fraelich,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boz Scaggs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lyres,
Newcleus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Organ,
Rod Modell,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Joe Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fortunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wally Richardson,
Rapeman,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
Zapp,
D'Angelo,
Underground Resistance,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arcadia,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul II Soul,
The Cure,
Radiohead,
Ronan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Scratch Acid,
Bush Tetras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Whodini,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.