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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sex Pistols to the jazz 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sparks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Cheater Slicks,
Scion,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
Pole,
Cecil Taylor,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Jimmy McGriff,
Organ,
Gong,
Wally Richardson,
Kaleidoscope,
Graham Central Station,
Surgeon,
FM Einheit,
Scott Walker,
Siglo XX,
The American Breed,
the Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Darondo,
cv313,
Mission of Burma,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dirtbombs,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Idris Muhammad,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fatback Band,
The Dead C,
Negative Approach,
Arcadia,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.