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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blake Baxter to the rap 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
DJ Style,
Blake Baxter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Blues Magoos,
The Grass Roots,
Carl Craig,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fatback Band,
Junior Murvin,
Idris Muhammad,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tim Buckley,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rapeman,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Black Pus,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Average White Band,
Nas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alice Coltrane,
Dave Gahan,
The Misunderstood,
L. Decosne,
Depeche Mode,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mo-Dettes,
MDC,
Ronan,
Reagan Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül,
Connie Case,
Bluetip,
Radio Birdman,
Stetsasonic,
Procol Harum,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Drexciya,
The Slits,
Ice-T,
Guru Guru,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.