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 Moldova and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Banda Bassotti to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
Can,
Davy DMX,
Hardrive,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
Urselle,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
Pere Ubu,
Peter and Kerry,
MC5,
ABC,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Young Rascals,
The Monochrome Set,
Soul II Soul,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rod Modell,
Agent Orange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Masters at Work,
The Names,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Audionom,
Wings,
Flamin' Groovies,
June Days,
Albert Ayler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alice Coltrane,
The Zeros,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Lindisfarne,
The Evens,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.