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 Sudan and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Moleskins 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Hot Snakes,
T.S.O.L.,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Theoretical Girls,
Funkadelic,
Minor Threat,
Scratch Acid,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Raincoats,
Slick Rick,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alice Coltrane,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
Blancmange,
Lungfish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
The Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Jacob Miller,
John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Nas,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Archie Shepp,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Mills,
FM Einheit,
The Wake,
Subhumans,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
Buzzcocks,
The Gap Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Silicon Teens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tomorrow,
John Foxx,
Mandrill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dark Day,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.