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 Morocco and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minny Pops to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers,
Donny Hathaway,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Unwound,
AZ,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Janne Schatter,
Y Pants,
Skaos,
The Raincoats,
Au Pairs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Soft Cell,
Chrome,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Foxx,
The Alarm Clocks,
Archie Shepp,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Andrew Hill,
Gang of Four,
Leonard Cohen,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Trumans Water,
Prince Buster,
The Walker Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monochrome Set,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Lindisfarne,
UT,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T. Rex,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Remains,
Rod Modell,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
Cecil Taylor,
Maleditus Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Iggy Pop,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.