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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Public Enemy to the grunge 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camberwell Now,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
Gong,
Patti Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ronan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
UT,
The Residents,
MDC,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
Rufus Thomas,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Offenders,
Slave,
Fear,
Clear Light,
Radio Birdman,
Sixth Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Eric Copeland,
Deepchord,
Depeche Mode,
The Divine Comedy,
Hashim,
Agitation Free,
Mark Hollis,
Stereo Dub,
Jacques Brel,
The Litter,
Robert Hood,
The Pop Group,
Gichy Dan,
The Golliwogs,
The New Christs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Standells,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Barracudas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Count Five,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
The Angels of Light,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.