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 Paraguay and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the punk 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Sound Behaviour,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oneida,
L. Decosne,
Albert Ayler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delta 5,
Trumans Water,
Don Cherry,
Scientists,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
The Mummies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skriet,
Shoche,
The Selecter,
Black Sheep,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
Warsaw,
Buzzcocks,
Visage,
Mission of Burma,
Black Moon,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
Porter Ricks,
The Fortunes,
Jacques Brel,
Lakeside,
Quadrant,
Althea and Donna,
The Victims,
Piero Umiliani,
the Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Ice-T,
Guru Guru,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Funky Four + One,
The Beau Brummels,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
cv313,
Model 500,
Spoonie Gee,
Cameo,
Jeff Mills,
Television,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
Crispian St. Peters,
Little Man,
The Buckinghams,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.