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 Jordan and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Scan 7,
Half Japanese,
Warsaw,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra,
Cal Tjader,
Icehouse,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Animal Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Michelle Simonal,
Can,
ABBA,
Magma,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
The Real Kids,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
Liliput,
Pierre Henry,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
Bizarre Inc.,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythm & Sound,
Yaz,
Barry Ungar,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fuzztones,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.