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 India and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Simply Red to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Hoover,
Aaron Thompson,
Boredoms,
Cecil Taylor,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sugar Minott,
Sound Behaviour,
Mark Hollis,
Joe Smooth,
Lakeside,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans,
Q65,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Christie,
Q and Not U,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Agitation Free,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wasted Youth,
LL Cool J,
Ronan,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Saccharine Trust,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cameo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
CMW,
H. Thieme,
Simply Red,
Lower 48,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Johnny Osbourne,
Clear Light,
Blossom Toes,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Echospace,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.