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 Ireland and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Harmonia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang of Four,
Blancmange,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Echospace,
Yazoo,
Hasil Adkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lyres,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bluetip,
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
Index,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül,
Bronski Beat,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
Rakim,
Country Teasers,
Isaac Hayes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Raincoats,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
FM Einheit,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Wells,
Dawn Penn,
Bang On A Can,
Radio Birdman,
Toni Rubio,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.