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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DJ Style to the jazz 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
The Mummies,
Glenn Branca,
Charles Mingus,
Dave Gahan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DNA,
PIL,
Marvin Gaye,
Roy Ayers,
The Birthday Party,
Minutemen,
Cluster,
Zero Boys,
Mr. Review,
Main Source,
L. Decosne,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kenny Larkin,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Raincoats,
Fela Kuti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
Can,
Second Layer,
Chris Corsano,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cowsills,
Urselle,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skriet,
Scan 7,
John Lydon,
Brass Construction,
Godley & Creme,
Audionom,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Organ,
The Slits,
Massinfluence,
Mandrill,
Half Japanese,
The Blues Magoos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Talk Talk,
The Real Kids,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lalann,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.