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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Raincoats to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Smog,
Absolute Body Control,
Schoolly D,
The Searchers,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
Fear,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Popol Vuh,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
KRS-One,
The Move,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Mills,
Warsaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Beau Brummels,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Mo-Dettes,
Amazonics,
John Cale,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Yusef Lateef,
Scrapy,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
Aaron Thompson,
Mars,
Derrick May,
Alphaville,
Bush Tetras,
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Bad Manners,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.