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 Niger and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blues Magoos,
Reuben Wilson,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Pylon,
Monolake,
Lalann,
Sight & Sound,
Roxy Music,
The Red Krayola,
Lightning Bolt,
Los Fastidios,
Joey Negro,
Moebius,
R.M.O.,
Von Mondo,
X-Ray Spex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oneida,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
kango's stein massive,
Altered Images,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jacob Miller,
Shoche,
The Moody Blues,
Stereo Dub,
Patti Smith,
Supertramp,
Bronski Beat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-101,
The Skatalites,
Visage,
Audionom,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
LL Cool J,
Tears for Fears,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Underground Resistance,
Livin' Joy,
Flash Fearless,
The Birthday Party,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monks,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.