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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
The Evens,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Fatback Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barry Ungar,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
Piero Umiliani,
Saccharine Trust,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slits,
Porter Ricks,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Main Source,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ossler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arthur Verocai,
Graham Central Station,
Ken Boothe,
Dawn Penn,
Maurizio,
EPMD,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxy Music,
Moby Grape,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Camouflage,
This Heat,
The Smoke,
The Zeros,
10cc,
The Litter,
K-Klass,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.