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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pussy Galore to the techno 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lower 48,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
Kurtis Blow,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Josef K,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Stooges,
The Standells,
The Velvet Underground,
Alton Ellis,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alice Coltrane,
Model 500,
Porter Ricks,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Index,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Five Americans,
Echospace,
The Invisible,
Rufus Thomas,
The Associates,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Nils Olav,
Bad Manners,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Mantronix,
Quantec,
This Heat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
Laurel Aitken,
Schoolly D,
The Residents,
Radiohead,
Radio Birdman,
Spoonie Gee,
Lungfish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
Nico,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.