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 Maldives and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric B and Rakim to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Cymande,
Moby Grape,
Lyres,
The Raincoats,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Neon Judgement,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Marvin Gaye,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soulsonic Force,
The Residents,
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
Infiniti,
Hasil Adkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Moon,
Los Fastidios,
Section 25,
Boogie Down Productions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Invisible,
The Smiths,
PIL,
Donald Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rites of Spring,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
The Trojans,
The Standells,
Adolescents,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Duran Duran,
Zapp,
Wings,
Henry Cow,
Outsiders,
The Martian,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.