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 Cambodia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Aloha Tigers 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Lightning Bolt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wasted Youth,
Charles Mingus,
The Mummies,
Steve Hackett,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Minnie Riperton,
The Raincoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radio Birdman,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rites of Spring,
Theoretical Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Intrusion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
Johnny Clarke,
Ice-T,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crooked Eye,
Ossler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Gang Green,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Womack,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
New York Dolls,
Negative Approach,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Lebanon Hanover,
Country Teasers,
The Sound,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.