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 Malawi and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arcadia to the crunk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Durutti Column,
Wasted Youth,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Qualms,
Wire,
David Axelrod,
Television,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Livin' Joy,
kango's stein massive,
Reagan Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deadbeat,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Raincoats,
The Motions,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
Ten City,
Ossler,
Alice Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun Ra,
Iggy Pop,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
Byron Stingily,
Main Source,
Y Pants,
JFA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Sherman,
The Last Poets,
The Moleskins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.