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 Malta and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barbara Tucker to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Gun Club,
Interpol,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deakin,
Pulsallama,
Von Mondo,
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust,
Colin Newman,
Gabor Szabo,
The Invisible,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Doors,
Rosa Yemen,
Flash Fearless,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
FM Einheit,
Symarip,
CMW,
Johnny Osbourne,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
The Golliwogs,
Soulsonic Force,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Black Dice,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dual Sessions,
Ponytail,
the Germs,
David McCallum,
The Gap Band,
Siglo XX,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
Surgeon,
Slick Rick,
Arcadia,
Sugar Minott,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hardrive,
Aswad,
Joensuu 1685,
Royal Trux,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.