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 Czech Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
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 marimba 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 The Wake to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Roxette,
The Kinks,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hasil Adkins,
Slave,
Radiohead,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest,
Agitation Free,
Thompson Twins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
cv313,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rod Modell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Germs,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Boz Scaggs,
The Tremeloes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eden Ahbez,
Alphaville,
Talk Talk,
Sandy B,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Swans,
Eric Dolphy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Section 25,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
OOIOO,
Magma,
Nico,
The Divine Comedy,
Crooked Eye,
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.