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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Jakarta and Hong Kong.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott Heron to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Babytalk,
Carl Craig,
Pulsallama,
The Residents,
Soft Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Danielle Patucci,
Symarip,
The Blackbyrds,
Davy DMX,
The Gories,
Maurizio,
Magazine,
EPMD,
Scan 7,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Qualms,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
Grauzone,
the Germs,
The Slackers,
Isaac Hayes,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
The Offenders,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Negative Approach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Iggy Pop,
Brand Nubian,
Sällskapet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Leaves,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
Whodini,
Motorama,
Hoover,
Von Mondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barry Ungar,
The Modern Lovers,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.