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 Bahrain and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 The Blues Magoos to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Second Layer,
Bill Near,
Magma,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Womack,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
The Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Kenny Larkin,
Max Romeo,
Robert Wyatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Sister Nancy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
Lyres,
Fluxion,
The Count Five,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers,
X-101,
Goldenarms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Foxx,
The Modern Lovers,
David Axelrod,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Sonic Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Neu!,
Hoover,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
Darondo,
China Crisis,
Pantytec,
Model 500,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Standells,
Nils Olav,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeff Lynne,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.