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 Botswana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Sister Nancy to the disco 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Buzzcocks,
Yellowson,
Tom Boy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minnie Riperton,
U.S. Maple,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
Agitation Free,
The Beau Brummels,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joyce Sims,
Massinfluence,
Yazoo,
The Leaves,
Jawbox,
Section 25,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Pus,
MC5,
Sparks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Order,
Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
Marvin Gaye,
Juan Atkins,
The Moleskins,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Mills,
a-ha,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
Lightning Bolt,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Joey Negro,
Con Funk Shun,
Vainqueur,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
Lungfish,
Subhumans,
JFA,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
Franke,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.