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 Saudi Arabia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Soul II Soul to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Crime,
Drexciya,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
John Lydon,
Skaos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter and Kerry,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rekid,
Joey Negro,
The Sound,
The Five Americans,
Kerri Chandler,
Alison Limerick,
Soulsonic Force,
Reuben Wilson,
Au Pairs,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cecil Taylor,
Urselle,
Cameo,
The Smiths,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Lyres,
The Litter,
Agitation Free,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed,
Brick,
Little Man,
Supertramp,
Pussy Galore,
The Martian,
Nation of Ulysses,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mojo Men,
Make Up,
Sparks,
Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.