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 Belarus and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Stiv Bators to the grime 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Fad Gadget,
Eden Ahbez,
Loose Ends,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
Dave Gahan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Trojans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Slave,
Unwound,
John Coltrane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul II Soul,
The Mummies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camouflage,
Arab on Radar,
The Gladiators,
The Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Section 25,
The Smoke,
Yaz,
Amazonics,
EPMD,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Evens,
The Count Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Pole,
Althea and Donna,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spoonie Gee,
Hardrive,
Qualms,
Kas Product,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
Country Teasers,
Accadde A,
These Immortal Souls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
The Dead C,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.