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 Netherlands and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Junior Murvin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
The Pretty Things,
Hoover,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Darondo,
the Association,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Aswad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fugs,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
The Smiths,
Colin Newman,
Albert Ayler,
Erykah Badu,
The Monochrome Set,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Görl,
Lou Christie,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rekid,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Interpol,
The Red Krayola,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
Scrapy,
The Last Poets,
Lower 48,
Animal Collective,
The Invisible,
Fugazi,
T. Rex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
The Trojans,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
The Wake,
The Kinks,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Flag,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
the Human League,
Joy Division,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Y Pants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barclay James Harvest,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.