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 Equatorial Guinea and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Chris Corsano,
Juan Atkins,
Judy Mowatt,
Funky Four + One,
Popol Vuh,
Fugazi,
La Düsseldorf,
Chrome,
Mantronix,
Underground Resistance,
The Moleskins,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
H. Thieme,
Iggy Pop,
Freddie Wadling,
The Invisible,
Pere Ubu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nils Olav,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Brick,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
Symarip,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
T. Rex,
Hardrive,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
KRS-One,
The Gap Band,
Maurizio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Stiv Bators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fatback Band,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
The Fortunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
The Move,
Derrick Morgan,
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.