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 Spain and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Residents to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Make Up,
The Cure,
Alice Coltrane,
Section 25,
The Velvet Underground,
Ossler,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Copeland,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wings,
Banda Bassotti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
CMW,
Hot Snakes,
Fela Kuti,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Lungfish,
Siglo XX,
Talk Talk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Sparks,
Eddi Front,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
The Neon Judgement,
Skarface,
World's Most,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Leonard Cohen,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
Smog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Sheep,
Slave,
Thee Headcoats,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MDC,
Matthew Halsall,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Young Rascals,
Jimmy McGriff,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Teasers,
The Evens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eli Mardock,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.