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 Germany and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Negative Approach,
The Black Dice,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blancmange,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Minor Threat,
MDC,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Infiniti,
Radiohead,
Ronan,
the Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
Blake Baxter,
Mandrill,
Zapp,
Soul II Soul,
Gabor Szabo,
Symarip,
David McCallum,
Steve Hackett,
Ponytail,
Jacques Brel,
Harmonia,
Rotary Connection,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
The Happenings,
Hashim,
KRS-One,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Average White Band,
Funky Four + One,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
Make Up,
Adolescents,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monks,
Faraquet,
Barry Ungar,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed,
Bill Near,
Angry Samoans,
Aural Exciters,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.