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 Germany and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
H. Thieme,
Das Ding,
Cymande,
The Names,
Fela Kuti,
Althea and Donna,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fatback Band,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Minutemen,
Heaven 17,
Wally Richardson,
Roxy Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Count Five,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Clarke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
Kaleidoscope,
Boredoms,
Suburban Knight,
The Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker,
Kayak,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rufus Thomas,
The Toasters,
MDC,
Piero Umiliani,
MC5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young,
Minor Threat,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Darondo,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.