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 Peru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ohio Players to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers 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 Sound,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Al Stewart,
Cal Tjader,
Surgeon,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
Camberwell Now,
Underground Resistance,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
The J.B.'s,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
Cecil Taylor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Iggy Pop,
The Star Department,
Glenn Branca,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
Loose Ends,
Pierre Henry,
MDC,
Eric Dolphy,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Metal Thangz,
Guru Guru,
The Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Wally Richardson,
Mr. Review,
Subhumans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
David Axelrod,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Bananas,
Slave,
Robert Hood,
The Motions,
Yaz,
Brand Nubian,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Neil Young,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June of 44,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Josef K,
Alton Ellis,
Absolute Body Control,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Saccharine Trust,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.