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 Indonesia and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Fear to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
James White and The Blacks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
The Music Machine,
Schoolly D,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
48th St. Collective,
Negative Approach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Black Dice,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Excepter,
Mission of Burma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Agitation Free,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boredoms,
Youth Brigade,
The Velvet Underground,
Nirvana,
The Skatalites,
Marine Girls,
Lou Christie,
Morten Harket,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
The Victims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gap Band,
Ken Boothe,
Pantaleimon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Lydon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
Shoche,
Magma,
Echospace,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
FM Einheit,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.