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 Bangladesh and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trojans to the punk 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 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 Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Sixth Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Lightning Bolt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fatback Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fortunes,
Rapeman,
Kaleidoscope,
Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Pop Group,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Style,
Scientists,
Chris Corsano,
Scrapy,
Roxy Music,
Maurizio,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Supertramp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quando Quango,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Toasters,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
The Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alton Ellis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Foxx,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.