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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 F. McDonald to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Magazine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boz Scaggs,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Busters,
Robert Hood,
Symarip,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Mark Hollis,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Young Marble Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
UT,
H. Thieme,
Nik Kershaw,
Tres Demented,
Severed Heads,
The J.B.'s,
Angry Samoans,
Ultra Naté,
Isaac Hayes,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
Howard Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Accadde A,
Sam Rivers,
Scan 7,
The Smiths,
The Associates,
Erasure,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
Supertramp,
Franke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tomorrow,
The Selecter,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Camberwell Now,
Gang Starr,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Carl Craig,
Anthony Braxton,
Marvin Gaye,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.