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 Panama and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Delon & Dalcan to the electroclash 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Boz Scaggs,
FM Einheit,
Skriet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Alice Coltrane,
Idris Muhammad,
The Young Rascals,
The Velvet Underground,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
Unrelated Segments,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gories,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Chrome,
In Retrospect,
Ultra Naté,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fad Gadget,
Letta Mbulu,
Subhumans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Martian,
The New Christs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Massinfluence,
John Holt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric Copeland,
Grey Daturas,
Y Pants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
One Last Wish,
KRS-One,
Graham Central Station,
Dual Sessions,
Metal Thangz,
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
Sexual Harrassment,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.