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 Lesotho and from Woodstock.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Human League 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yaz,
The Fugs,
The Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Blossom Toes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Todd Terry,
Eurythmics,
Harry Pussy,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rakim,
Black Pus,
Johnny Clarke,
Isaac Hayes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
DJ Sneak,
Donny Hathaway,
Hashim,
Japan,
The Names,
Judy Mowatt,
Masters at Work,
Von Mondo,
Lucky Dragons,
Graham Central Station,
The Fuzztones,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deepchord,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Enemy,
Popol Vuh,
Leonard Cohen,
Lebanon Hanover,
Don Cherry,
The Human League,
Fugazi,
Josef K,
MDC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.