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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Radiohead,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Birthday Party,
Prince Buster,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin,
Pantytec,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
Danielle Patucci,
Graham Central Station,
Silicon Teens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Little Man,
Unwound,
Hoover,
Hasil Adkins,
Skaos,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
Quando Quango,
Buzzcocks,
Suicide,
Average White Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Intrusion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brothers Johnson,
Iggy Pop,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Scratch Acid,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Smoke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Golliwogs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
The Misunderstood,
Skriet,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Terry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cybotron,
Kas Product,
a-ha,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.