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 Zimbabwe and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
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 marimba 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 UT to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Bob Dylan,
Ultra Naté,
LL Cool J,
ABC,
Pole,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mummies,
Severed Heads,
Aswad,
Deepchord,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Public Enemy,
Liliput,
Technova,
Freddie Wadling,
John Cale,
UT,
a-ha,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Janne Schatter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fortunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Warren Ellis,
Reuben Wilson,
Bad Manners,
Pere Ubu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Hood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soulsonic Force,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
Mars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-101,
Brick,
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
Arthur Verocai,
Popol Vuh,
Toni Rubio,
The Trojans,
Faust,
The Index,
Parry Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.