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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Cramps to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bad Manners,
Scientists,
U.S. Maple,
Mars,
Can,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cameo,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cymande,
Kurtis Blow,
Alison Limerick,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
The Smoke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
Pylon,
The Birthday Party,
Black Moon,
Bootsy Collins,
Rod Modell,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Clarke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Colin Newman,
Nirvana,
Thee Headcoats,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Danielle Patucci,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camouflage,
Tres Demented,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
kango's stein massive,
Suburban Knight,
Essential Logic,
Hasil Adkins,
The Tremeloes,
Minor Threat,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.