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 Sri Lanka and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Shuggie Otis 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Erykah Badu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joe Smooth,
The Birthday Party,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare,
Lightning Bolt,
Clear Light,
Ludus,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
Scratch Acid,
Depeche Mode,
Fat Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stiv Bators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pylon,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television Personalities,
Thompson Twins,
The Moody Blues,
Rakim,
Ultra Naté,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonic Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stetsasonic,
Au Pairs,
Young Marble Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeff Lynne,
Bluetip,
Fugazi,
Robert Görl,
Pole,
Dave Gahan,
Popol Vuh,
Aaron Thompson,
Qualms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Colin Newman,
Flash Fearless,
The Gap Band,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
H. Thieme,
The Buckinghams,
Barry Ungar,
Charles Mingus,
Los Fastidios,
Ossler,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.