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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Byron Stingily,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Barracudas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Standells,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Hoover,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gladiators,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Easy Going,
Glenn Branca,
Cybotron,
Scientists,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
Ohio Players,
The Victims,
Can,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
Jeru the Damaja,
Newcleus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minnie Riperton,
The United States of America,
The Slits,
Aaron Thompson,
Y Pants,
Yazoo,
Niagra,
The Pretty Things,
KRS-One,
Interpol,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
Maurizio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.