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 Ghana and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Max Romeo to the jazz 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
The Beau Brummels,
Circle Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
Echospace,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
The Barracudas,
Tom Boy,
Scott Walker,
Kerri Chandler,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faust,
a-ha,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gun Club,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
DJ Style,
Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Fluxion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dennis Brown,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
The Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Gichy Dan,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Kayak,
The Angels of Light,
Althea and Donna,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
the Bar-Kays,
Jawbox,
The Evens,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-102,
Motorama,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.