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 Czech Republic and from Milan.
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 Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the electroclash 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rosa Yemen,
Iggy Pop,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zero Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Wolf Eyes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soulsonic Force,
Isaac Hayes,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Jandek,
Kerri Chandler,
Newcleus,
Index,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Marvin Gaye,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Barrington Levy,
Spandau Ballet,
Fatback Band,
Joey Negro,
Ludus,
Metal Thangz,
Brass Construction,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
D'Angelo,
The Cure,
Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
The Fall,
Blake Baxter,
Kas Product,
Shoche,
Sällskapet,
China Crisis,
The Pretty Things,
Mo-Dettes,
Little Man,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dirtbombs,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Interpol,
The Zeros,
Second Layer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.