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 Morocco and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 The Five Americans to the dance 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Offenders,
the Swans,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
Zapp,
The Saints,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
The Dirtbombs,
X-101,
Boredoms,
The Neon Judgement,
Fluxion,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Little Man,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Normal,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Grey Daturas,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Quadrant,
Cecil Taylor,
John Coltrane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronan,
kango's stein massive,
Fad Gadget,
Warren Ellis,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Mills,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru,
Traffic Nightmare,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
D'Angelo,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sight & Sound,
cv313,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scientists,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.