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 Cuba and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the funk 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Wake,
Eddi Front,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Terry,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
The Beau Brummels,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiohead,
Pussy Galore,
Maleditus Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faraquet,
Rekid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marvin Gaye,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Howard Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fall,
Sun Ra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Bronski Beat,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
New Order,
The United States of America,
Piero Umiliani,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
Soulsonic Force,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
The Doobie Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Little Man,
The Red Krayola,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.