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 Denmark and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ultravox to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Malaria!,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
Absolute Body Control,
The Searchers,
L. Decosne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Rites of Spring,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Sandy B,
Wings,
B.T. Express,
Pantytec,
Lyres,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick May,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Grass Roots,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DJ Sneak,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
the Bar-Kays,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Rapeman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Mantronix,
Barry Ungar,
Joyce Sims,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minny Pops,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blancmange,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Simply Red,
UT,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy Collins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hardrive,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.