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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Pere Ubu to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Big Daddy Kane,
Qualms,
The Fuzztones,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Sam Rivers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Davy DMX,
Pantaleimon,
F. McDonald,
Skriet,
The Slits,
The Velvet Underground,
Pole,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bush Tetras,
Japan,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Hood,
The Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cowsills,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Swans,
Circle Jerks,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Dead Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Agitation Free,
Gong,
The Red Krayola,
Iggy Pop,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Sarah Menescal,
Whodini,
Nik Kershaw,
The Star Department,
Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nas,
Q65,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Dolphy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.