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 Belarus and from Mumbai.
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 Beijing and Bremen.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Average White Band to the crunk 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Smog,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
F. McDonald,
Skaos,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
DJ Style,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Main Source,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
Hoover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
Eurythmics,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Todd Terry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Maleditus Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
UT,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
The Golliwogs,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
Whodini,
Davy DMX,
Lower 48,
Zapp,
Technova,
This Heat,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
K-Klass,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Beau Brummels,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Mr. Review,
Little Man,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
Accadde A,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
Janne Schatter,
ABC,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.