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 Seychelles and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Neon Judgement to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Fear,
Ossler,
The Tremeloes,
Excepter,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Hardrive,
Eurythmics,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Flag,
Shuggie Otis,
Chrome,
Mars,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash,
Interpol,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Names,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
The Blackbyrds,
Rakim,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Womack,
Magma,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
Newcleus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
MDC,
Angry Samoans,
Eden Ahbez,
Bad Manners,
Chris & Cosey,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
China Crisis,
Roxette,
Lakeside,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
Archie Shepp,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
10cc,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Darondo,
Funky Four + One,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.