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 Sierra Leone and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Toni Rubio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Ice-T,
The Cramps,
Soft Machine,
Trumans Water,
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
Procol Harum,
cv313,
The Standells,
Matthew Halsall,
Audionom,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quantec,
Eli Mardock,
Darondo,
Slave,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
Technova,
Lee Hazlewood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Josef K,
The Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Maurizio,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
Camouflage,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
The Fortunes,
Little Man,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Wells,
Dark Day,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Absolute Body Control,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Buzzcocks,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.