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 Indonesia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Blancmange to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
The Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
The Cramps,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
F. McDonald,
Lyres,
Lindisfarne,
The Invisible,
The Wake,
LL Cool J,
The Sound,
Patti Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-102,
Drexciya,
Skarface,
The Mummies,
Ornette Coleman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Desert Stars,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Con Funk Shun,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Smooth,
Simply Red,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cameo,
Lower 48,
Von Mondo,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Gong,
Niagra,
Technova,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
Cecil Taylor,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Surgeon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-Ray Spex,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Byron Stingily,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble 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.