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 Barbados and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Khruangbin,
Outsiders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Prince Buster,
Howard Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
Kas Product,
Al Stewart,
The Toasters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pagans,
Rufus Thomas,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Trumans Water,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang On A Can,
Niagra,
The Knickerbockers,
Sandy B,
Cybotron,
Gichy Dan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eden Ahbez,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
This Heat,
Rites of Spring,
Flash Fearless,
Erykah Badu,
Danielle Patucci,
The Remains,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spandau Ballet,
X-101,
Leonard Cohen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cluster,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pussy Galore,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.