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 Austria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
the Bar-Kays,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
Barbara Tucker,
Sarah Menescal,
Skarface,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Junior Murvin,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalann,
Skriet,
Alphaville,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantaleimon,
Wire,
Public Enemy,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
Yellowson,
Goldenarms,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
The Slackers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy Collins,
DNA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rakim,
CMW,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
The Evens,
Oblivians,
Terry Callier,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.