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 Croatia and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ituana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Skaos,
Swans,
Royal Trux,
Stetsasonic,
Kenny Larkin,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mummies,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Walker Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Suburban Knight,
Basic Channel,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Camouflage,
Shoche,
The Wake,
Alice Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Yusef Lateef,
Little Man,
The Detroit Cobras,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pole,
Anthony Braxton,
Lindisfarne,
Dawn Penn,
Quando Quango,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Terry,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Unrelated Segments,
AZ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
Echospace,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oneida,
Roger Hodgson,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
The United States of America,
Hashim,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.