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 Bulgaria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moleskins to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
T.S.O.L.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
Angry Samoans,
Organ,
The Blues Magoos,
Connie Case,
Robert Wyatt,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
D'Angelo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Sex Pistols,
Negative Approach,
Aural Exciters,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
Saccharine Trust,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Ohio Players,
Public Image Ltd.,
Iggy Pop,
Los Fastidios,
The Selecter,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
Pole,
10cc,
Moebius,
Darondo,
Sister Nancy,
MDC,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
T. Rex,
Franke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
Visage,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
Au Pairs,
Bluetip,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Smog,
Banda Bassotti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.