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 Vanuatu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Radiohead to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
the Sonics,
Scrapy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wasted Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Index,
Terry Callier,
Jimmy McGriff,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy Collins,
Connie Case,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Germs,
Derrick Morgan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Black Flag,
Little Man,
Rapeman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Metal Thangz,
Sonic Youth,
Ten City,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Scan 7,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Massinfluence,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Absolute Body Control,
Fugazi,
Kayak,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Finger,
Yellowson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ponytail,
Bang On A Can,
The Real Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
Country Teasers,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.