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 Germany and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott Heron to the funk 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
cv313,
Dorothy Ashby,
Icehouse,
Sixth Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Black Flag,
Make Up,
Faraquet,
B.T. Express,
Ronan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monks,
Suicide,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Reagan Youth,
Carl Craig,
Y Pants,
Radiohead,
The Cowsills,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hasil Adkins,
Dawn Penn,
Spandau Ballet,
DNA,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cal Tjader,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Joey Negro,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Symarip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warsaw,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
David Axelrod,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Human League,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.