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 Jamaica and from Accra.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe 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 Index to the grime 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Vladislav Delay,
Rapeman,
Faraquet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young,
Wire,
Matthew Bourne,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Victims,
Cecil Taylor,
Soulsonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Eve St. Jones,
Maleditus Sound,
Donald Byrd,
The Five Americans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Darondo,
Brothers Johnson,
David McCallum,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
Make Up,
Danielle Patucci,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dead C,
The New Christs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Leaves,
The Fortunes,
Half Japanese,
Vainqueur,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Isaac Hayes,
The Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
The Litter,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Q and Not U,
Basic Channel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.