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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bluetip to the grunge 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Moleskins,
Pierre Henry,
David Axelrod,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marmalade,
Deadbeat,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soul II Soul,
Wire,
Rapeman,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Christie,
Fat Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
Harry Pussy,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
Model 500,
The Techniques,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Mills,
Malaria!,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
Television Personalities,
Magazine,
Oblivians,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Hill,
Siglo XX,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
the Soft Cell,
Whodini,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.