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 Montenegro and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Gang Dance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Invisible,
Camberwell Now,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Residents,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tim Buckley,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Sister Nancy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
Warren Ellis,
Hot Snakes,
Quantec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fatback Band,
Popol Vuh,
The Music Machine,
Slick Rick,
Deadbeat,
Alton Ellis,
Sandy B,
Connie Case,
Brand Nubian,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doobie Brothers,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-Ray Spex,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Talk Talk,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang of Four,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Womack,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
The Associates,
Nas,
Nils Olav,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.