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 Korea South and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Skatalites,
the Fania All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha,
Flipper,
Lou Reed,
MC5,
Chris & Cosey,
The Golliwogs,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
The Fire Engines,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Slick Rick,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
Black Pus,
Joe Smooth,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter and Kerry,
Maleditus Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Joy Division,
The Trojans,
Half Japanese,
Harry Pussy,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blues Magoos,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Clarke,
Mark Hollis,
Quantec,
DJ Sneak,
Cymande,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
Lindisfarne,
Sight & Sound,
David McCallum,
The Star Department,
Ponytail,
DNA,
KRS-One,
Letta Mbulu,
Audionom,
Brand Nubian,
Oneida,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
Arab on Radar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.