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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cecil Taylor to the crunk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül,
John Lydon,
Erykah Badu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quando Quango,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
Moebius,
Q65,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fortunes,
Graham Central Station,
Khruangbin,
The United States of America,
Cybotron,
The Sonics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magma,
Suicide,
Fela Kuti,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
Inner City,
Urselle,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Public Enemy,
Lakeside,
Spandau Ballet,
Aloha Tigers,
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Standells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Misunderstood,
Half Japanese,
Barrington Levy,
Scrapy,
Agitation Free,
Bluetip,
Moss Icon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cowsills,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.