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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Soulsonic Force 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Christie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Darondo,
Metal Thangz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Little Man,
Simply Red,
Index,
The Saints,
Judy Mowatt,
Zapp,
Easy Going,
Sex Pistols,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Can,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blossom Toes,
Wings,
The Sonics,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eddi Front,
Q65,
Moby Grape,
Lyres,
Sandy B,
T. Rex,
Moss Icon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Groovy Waters,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Flag,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins,
Flash Fearless,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fall,
PIL,
Patti Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Das Ding,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pharoah Sanders,
DJ Style,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.