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 Syria and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bill Near to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Man Parrish,
The Martian,
the Association,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blancmange,
Janne Schatter,
Davy DMX,
Flash Fearless,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
U.S. Maple,
Morten Harket,
Cheater Slicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doors,
June Days,
Von Mondo,
The Index,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
Cameo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scientists,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
The Move,
Letta Mbulu,
Nik Kershaw,
Grey Daturas,
New Age Steppers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sound Behaviour,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maurizio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near,
Black Bananas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
Roger Hodgson,
Qualms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barry Ungar,
Funkadelic,
the Normal,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.