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 Antigua and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Nas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang of Four,
Fear,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
Lyres,
Public Enemy,
Can,
Slick Rick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Supertramp,
EPMD,
The Fortunes,
Negative Approach,
Black Moon,
Bizarre Inc.,
D'Angelo,
PIL,
The Gories,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
Pantytec,
Anthony Braxton,
The Stooges,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Moss Icon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soulsonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Gerry Rafferty,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gastr Del Sol,
These Immortal Souls,
James White and The Blacks,
Depeche Mode,
K-Klass,
Grauzone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gap Band,
Ossler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Blossom Toes,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.