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 Albania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
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 rhodes 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 H. Thieme to the disco 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Skriet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soulsonic Force,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eden Ahbez,
Marine Girls,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Popol Vuh,
Magma,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers,
June Days,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
June of 44,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Average White Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
the Germs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
Minutemen,
Fear,
Adolescents,
The Wake,
The Star Department,
Shoche,
Brothers Johnson,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
Alison Limerick,
Country Teasers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television Personalities,
Hardrive,
The Raincoats,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
China Crisis,
Marc Almond,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
John Foxx,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.