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 Thailand and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 John Holt to the rap 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Animal Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
The Durutti Column,
The American Breed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Procol Harum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cymande,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fugs,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren,
Althea and Donna,
Y Pants,
Subhumans,
Minor Threat,
the Sonics,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ice-T,
Faraquet,
The Monochrome Set,
The J.B.'s,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Lynne,
The New Christs,
The Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aswad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
Grandmaster Flash,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dawn Penn,
Mad Mike,
MDC,
the Germs,
Swell Maps,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
Arcadia,
The Modern Lovers,
The Invisible,
Sällskapet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.