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 Vietnam and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
Barrington Levy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Depeche Mode,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alphaville,
Alice Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Flash Fearless,
John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Aswad,
The Stooges,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
Sällskapet,
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Tommy Roe,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Simply Red,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Basic Channel,
Schoolly D,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Carl Craig,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shoche,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gastr Del Sol,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fall,
Subhumans,
Suburban Knight,
Neu!,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.