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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Kinks,
Cecil Taylor,
Alice Coltrane,
China Crisis,
Livin' Joy,
Junior Murvin,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Mills,
The Dave Clark Five,
Banda Bassotti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
U.S. Maple,
Mary Jane Girls,
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Agitation Free,
Bang On A Can,
Delta 5,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
Mad Mike,
Bill Wells,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Stooges,
Scientists,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mo-Dettes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mantronix,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dave Gahan,
MDC,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drexciya,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
10cc,
Kas Product,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
The Searchers,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Second Layer,
Blossom Toes,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.