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 Russia and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Osbourne to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Velvet Underground,
Agitation Free,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Oneida,
Carl Craig,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moleskins,
Fela Kuti,
LL Cool J,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Associates,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hoover,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
The Residents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Connie Case,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
UT,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Music Machine,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tim Buckley,
Steve Hackett,
The Gap Band,
Heaven 17,
Grey Daturas,
Gang of Four,
Eli Mardock,
Marmalade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
The Offenders,
Public Enemy,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.