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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Halifax.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus,
The Tremeloes,
Darondo,
Steve Hackett,
X-101,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Juan Atkins,
Lindisfarne,
Don Cherry,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sparks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacob Miller,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
Adolescents,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
Saccharine Trust,
cv313,
Alison Limerick,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Trojans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Victims,
Swans,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smiths,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Subhumans,
Banda Bassotti,
Public Image Ltd.,
Warsaw,
Barry Ungar,
Popol Vuh,
Amazonics,
ABBA,
K-Klass,
Guru Guru,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.