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 Dominica and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
The Smiths,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Tommy Roe,
The Mojo Men,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Seeds,
The Raincoats,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Stetsasonic,
Barrington Levy,
Judy Mowatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Holt,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
New Age Steppers,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Bobby Byrd,
OOIOO,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mummies,
The Buckinghams,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
Gong,
Schoolly D,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Fear,
Y Pants,
Ten City,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter & Gordon,
Animal Collective,
R.M.O.,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
The Dirtbombs,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joyce Sims,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul,
Cal Tjader,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.