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 Maldives and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Chrome to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Sun Ra,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
The J.B.'s,
Slick Rick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barry Ungar,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cure,
Yusef Lateef,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Barbara Tucker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Little Man,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Aural Exciters,
Severed Heads,
Hoover,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
Simply Red,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Soulsonic Force,
Crime,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cramps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Ronan,
Television,
Trumans Water,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cameo,
Moss Icon,
AZ,
Robert Görl,
Donald Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Can,
UT,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.