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 Norway and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grime 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sound Behaviour,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
David Axelrod,
Metal Thangz,
Moby Grape,
Reagan Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Real Kids,
The Gap Band,
The Associates,
Sonny Sharrock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eve St. Jones,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Tears for Fears,
The Durutti Column,
Sparks,
Kas Product,
Fela Kuti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Normal,
Lungfish,
Bang On A Can,
Bob Dylan,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
Warsaw,
Joe Finger,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
Josef K,
Roy Ayers,
Deepchord,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Camberwell Now,
Maurizio,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.