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 Nicaragua and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 R.M.O. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Brick,
Erasure,
One Last Wish,
Bill Near,
Animal Collective,
Rekid,
The Residents,
Rufus Thomas,
Dave Gahan,
Sixth Finger,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
Metal Thangz,
Groovy Waters,
Los Fastidios,
Lungfish,
Monolake,
Audionom,
Cybotron,
Ken Boothe,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deadbeat,
the Germs,
Public Enemy,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smoke,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Lightning Bolt,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
Carl Craig,
Tim Buckley,
Danielle Patucci,
Sugar Minott,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
Theoretical Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
The Slits,
the Association,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Cluster,
Jandek,
Agent Orange,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.