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 Eritrea 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Womack to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
The Music Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rapeman,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arab on Radar,
David Axelrod,
Althea and Donna,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Pretty Things,
Royal Trux,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
Hardrive,
La Düsseldorf,
The Martian,
Zapp,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Au Pairs,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies,
Ronnie Foster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Little Man,
The Cowsills,
One Last Wish,
Deadbeat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Piero Umiliani,
L. Decosne,
Von Mondo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Qualms,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
The Golliwogs,
Cal Tjader,
Public Enemy,
The Gladiators,
Aswad,
EPMD,
New Age Steppers,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxy Music,
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Underground Resistance,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.