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 Ukraine and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Womack to the rock 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
Fluxion,
Maurizio,
The Victims,
The Trojans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Tomorrow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flash Fearless,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Marine Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Duran Duran,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Christie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
The Velvet Underground,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fear,
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
Kevin Saunderson,
World's Most,
Byron Stingily,
Ponytail,
Quantec,
Television,
The Motions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sex Pistols,
Al Stewart,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Aaron Thompson,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.