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 Tonga and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Smoke to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Slave,
Davy DMX,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Franke,
Donny Hathaway,
Tom Boy,
Little Man,
Eurythmics,
Brass Construction,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Moebius,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
The Moleskins,
Grauzone,
Bill Near,
The Walker Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Heaven 17,
Godley & Creme,
ABC,
Second Layer,
Simply Red,
Archie Shepp,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlback,
In Retrospect,
Derrick May,
Wings,
Urselle,
Joy Division,
The Mojo Men,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radio Birdman,
Nas,
Brand Nubian,
Supertramp,
Kas Product,
Dual Sessions,
Warren Ellis,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Y Pants,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Newcleus,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.