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 Lebanon and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Lindisfarne,
Organ,
Aswad,
Steve Hackett,
Lyres,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Josef K,
Morten Harket,
Soft Cell,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Hashim,
Jandek,
Q and Not U,
Kerri Chandler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barry Ungar,
Terry Callier,
Das Ding,
The Saints,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
The J.B.'s,
Duran Duran,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stetsasonic,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
The Zeros,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
Tubeway Army,
Archie Shepp,
Curtis Mayfield,
CMW,
Avey Tare,
The New Christs,
Bang On A Can,
Marine Girls,
the Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
H. Thieme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.