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 China and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Echospace to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Rosa Yemen,
Procol Harum,
Pussy Galore,
cv313,
Desert Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scrapy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
The Five Americans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Isaac Hayes,
Aswad,
New Order,
the Swans,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nico,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mojo Men,
Can,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
The Slackers,
DJ Style,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Icehouse,
Nirvana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pole,
Marvin Gaye,
Scientists,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
Piero Umiliani,
Mission of Burma,
Sun City Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.