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 Tanzania and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sam Rivers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacob Miller,
Dead Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Hashim,
Subhumans,
Derrick May,
Technova,
Moebius,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
Cybotron,
The Gladiators,
Warren Ellis,
Patti Smith,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Magazine,
Soulsonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nirvana,
Reuben Wilson,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monks,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
The Moody Blues,
Erykah Badu,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
JFA,
The Saints,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Arab on Radar,
The Victims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
Rufus Thomas,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.