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 Yemen and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Sun Ra to the rock 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Scrapy,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Moebius,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faust,
The Gun Club,
Livin' Joy,
Bill Near,
Reuben Wilson,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Echospace,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Cluster,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
Lower 48,
Derrick May,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
Infiniti,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Terry,
Byron Stingily,
X-Ray Spex,
Janne Schatter,
Godley & Creme,
A Certain Ratio,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
Don Cherry,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
Loose Ends,
Joe Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The New Christs,
Television,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reagan Youth,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.