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 Afghanistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Popol Vuh to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Ultimate Spinach,
Audionom,
The Associates,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Oblivians,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boz Scaggs,
The Grass Roots,
Country Teasers,
Q and Not U,
Stiv Bators,
Black Flag,
Joe Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fela Kuti,
Royal Trux,
Erykah Badu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ponytail,
Severed Heads,
Alice Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minor Threat,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Junior Murvin,
Arab on Radar,
The Count Five,
The Trojans,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Görl,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
Peter & Gordon,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.