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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kenny Larkin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Bush Tetras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Connie Case,
Nils Olav,
Brand Nubian,
Erykah Badu,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Minor Threat,
The Cure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Style,
Siglo XX,
Delon & Dalcan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Technova,
Magma,
The Divine Comedy,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mummies,
Robert Wyatt,
The Tremeloes,
Stiv Bators,
Reagan Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
T.S.O.L.,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
Panda Bear,
Scientists,
Crime,
Funkadelic,
EPMD,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Patti Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pussy Galore,
Wally Richardson,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
Desert Stars,
Yazoo,
Darondo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skaos,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Radiopuhelimet,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.