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 Haiti and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New York Dolls to the crunk 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
The Divine Comedy,
The Associates,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ossler,
Von Mondo,
Slick Rick,
Mars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiohead,
The Cure,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kaleidoscope,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
Fluxion,
Crime,
Silicon Teens,
The Grass Roots,
Pere Ubu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shoche,
Monks,
ABC,
Rosa Yemen,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
The Human League,
Deakin,
Infiniti,
Depeche Mode,
Wings,
Spandau Ballet,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Rites of Spring,
The Saints,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
Organ,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.