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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alice Coltrane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
D'Angelo,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
DNA,
Oneida,
Quantec,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sarah Menescal,
Negative Approach,
Chrome,
Lee Hazlewood,
T.S.O.L.,
Magma,
Blancmange,
Susan Cadogan,
The Raincoats,
Joy Division,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Suburban Knight,
Accadde A,
The Human League,
Reagan Youth,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
Ossler,
Pere Ubu,
Quando Quango,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Goldenarms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Minutemen,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
The Smoke,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
Basic Channel,
a-ha,
The Gories,
Ornette Coleman,
New Age Steppers,
Metal Thangz,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Gabor Szabo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.