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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 The Alarm Clocks to the funk 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Alphaville,
Oblivians,
Yaz,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pop Group,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David Bowie,
Bootsy Collins,
Kaleidoscope,
Glenn Branca,
Yusef Lateef,
Wasted Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
Groovy Waters,
Slick Rick,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lyres,
Tom Boy,
Los Fastidios,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Move,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
World's Most,
Ronnie Foster,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
Sound Behaviour,
Rod Modell,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Toasters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Hill,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dead Boys,
KRS-One,
Alice Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Black Sheep,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.