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 Dominican Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Juan Atkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Saints,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Buzzcocks,
Soulsonic Force,
Harmonia,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dave Gahan,
The Neon Judgement,
Nirvana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cecil Taylor,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra,
The Pretty Things,
Wings,
Deadbeat,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter & Gordon,
Nas,
Ossler,
Sarah Menescal,
Lightning Bolt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cowsills,
The Knickerbockers,
Hot Snakes,
Surgeon,
Alton Ellis,
Nils Olav,
Cymande,
Oblivians,
MC5,
Henry Cow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Blake Baxter,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
Shuggie Otis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
Section 25,
Ken Boothe,
the Swans,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Subhumans,
Deakin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Das Ding,
JFA,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.