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 Slovenia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sight & Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
UT,
Ice-T,
Deepchord,
Yellowson,
Sound Behaviour,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Happenings,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Crime,
Rekid,
Stereo Dub,
Ossler,
PIL,
the Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Symarip,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Smooth,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
Howard Jones,
Severed Heads,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Scientists,
Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Man Eating Sloth,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
CMW,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Steve Hackett,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gichy Dan,
John Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.