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 Gambia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Ronan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
H. Thieme,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
Erykah Badu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thee Headcoats,
Make Up,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bad Manners,
Malaria!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Panda Bear,
Thompson Twins,
One Last Wish,
Rosa Yemen,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
Intrusion,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ponytail,
CMW,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lyres,
The Golliwogs,
Idris Muhammad,
T. Rex,
Colin Newman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sandy B,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Glenn Branca,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Derrick Morgan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Television,
Outsiders,
The Beau Brummels,
La Düsseldorf,
The Residents,
Heaven 17,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
The Doors,
The Techniques,
Rites of Spring,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.