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 Libya and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Minny Pops to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Victims,
The Knickerbockers,
Ponytail,
Black Flag,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Main Source,
Eurythmics,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sound,
Mad Mike,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doors,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
Max Romeo,
The Mojo Men,
the Normal,
Trumans Water,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joy Division,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aaron Thompson,
Deadbeat,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
Pantytec,
Piero Umiliani,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Byrd,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Kas Product,
Groovy Waters,
Sonic Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gories,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
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.