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 Peru and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Mission of Burma to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Derrick Morgan,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June of 44,
Ultimate Spinach,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lungfish,
Jandek,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks,
Angry Samoans,
Byron Stingily,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy Collins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Basic Channel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Heaven 17,
Smog,
Lalann,
Barrington Levy,
John Cale,
Television,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
48th St. Collective,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Subhumans,
David Axelrod,
Scion,
Q and Not U,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sandy B,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid,
DJ Style,
the Bar-Kays,
Fad Gadget,
Swell Maps,
Make Up,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
H. Thieme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Main Source,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.