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 France and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Symarip to the grunge 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '60s 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 DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Maleditus Sound,
Supertramp,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Massinfluence,
Pole,
Lyres,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
Eric Copeland,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
AZ,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
The Gap Band,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grauzone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Girls At Our Best!,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Index,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
The Human League,
Camouflage,
A Certain Ratio,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Nas,
Maurizio,
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Japan,
Al Stewart,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Brick,
James White and The Blacks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Association,
Talk Talk,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.