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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Max Romeo to the grime 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
the Bar-Kays,
Scientists,
Ultra Naté,
Pagans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Archie Shepp,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
Sister Nancy,
Make Up,
Sonny Sharrock,
June of 44,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Smog,
Gong,
Soft Machine,
Dead Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fela Kuti,
Rapeman,
Arab on Radar,
Ten City,
Blancmange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dawn Penn,
Tim Buckley,
Sonic Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxy Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Chris & Cosey,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Q65,
The Index,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.