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 Kenya and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Minny Pops to the funk 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Mo-Dettes,
Duran Duran,
The Gladiators,
Barrington Levy,
The Raincoats,
Nik Kershaw,
Kas Product,
X-102,
Model 500,
Skriet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
Altered Images,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Porter Ricks,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wings,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Underground Resistance,
Metal Thangz,
Bluetip,
Josef K,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
The New Christs,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Association,
Roxette,
Roxy Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Neu!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Danielle Patucci,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.