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 Madagascar and from London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radiopuhelimet to the techno 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Nas,
Easy Going,
The Count Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Swans,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
The Last Poets,
Second Layer,
Arab on Radar,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Association,
R.M.O.,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Gabor Szabo,
Khruangbin,
EPMD,
Gong,
Toni Rubio,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maleditus Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Sällskapet,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Hill,
Soulsonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Archie Shepp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
the Bar-Kays,
Agitation Free,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.