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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Motions to the punk 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
K-Klass,
The Victims,
Brand Nubian,
Black Bananas,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warsaw,
The Vogues,
Public Enemy,
The Litter,
Fugazi,
Bobby Womack,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Scion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Fad Gadget,
Ice-T,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps,
The Raincoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Wire,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Human League,
Saccharine Trust,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ten City,
Depeche Mode,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aloha Tigers,
Colin Newman,
World's Most,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.