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 Kenya and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barbara Tucker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Tom Boy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roger Hodgson,
PIL,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ludus,
The Barracudas,
Dark Day,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
Marmalade,
Faust,
Slave,
Gabor Szabo,
Kurtis Blow,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
Massinfluence,
Unwound,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
Ultravox,
Prince Buster,
Young Marble Giants,
The Techniques,
X-102,
David Axelrod,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
Radiohead,
Lakeside,
FM Einheit,
the Swans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Laurel Aitken,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Michelle Simonal,
Marc Almond,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Green,
Terry Callier,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.