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 East Timor and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scion,
Interpol,
Donny Hathaway,
The J.B.'s,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mad Mike,
The Gun Club,
Oblivians,
EPMD,
The Doors,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Music Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris Corsano,
Lou Reed,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Curtis Mayfield,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Make Up,
Wolf Eyes,
Hoover,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Görl,
Gang Starr,
the Germs,
Kas Product,
Al Stewart,
Accadde A,
B.T. Express,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Blackbyrds,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra,
Peter & Gordon,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Connie Case,
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Spoonie Gee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
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.