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 Belarus and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Motorama to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Matthew Halsall,
Johnny Clarke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fat Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
Rapeman,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Archie Shepp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sixth Finger,
The Sound,
Second Layer,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
Graham Central Station,
Nas,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ken Boothe,
Deepchord,
Althea and Donna,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys,
OOIOO,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skriet,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Bourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Stooges,
John Coltrane,
The Monks,
The Dave Clark Five,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick May,
Joensuu 1685,
Cymande,
Ronan,
June of 44,
The Cowsills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grauzone,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aaron Thompson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Lydon,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.