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 Slovakia 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grey Daturas to the rap 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Eden Ahbez,
Scientists,
Little Man,
R.M.O.,
Swell Maps,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
The Motions,
Goldenarms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Index,
Zapp,
MC5,
Half Japanese,
Saccharine Trust,
Supertramp,
The Moody Blues,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Leaves,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Shuggie Otis,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Make Up,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
The Seeds,
The Busters,
Ponytail,
Quando Quango,
Interpol,
Sarah Menescal,
Organ,
Cal Tjader,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Soul Sonic Force,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.