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 Swaziland and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Charles Mingus to the jazz 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Easy Going,
Eden Ahbez,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Parrish,
Funkadelic,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gories,
The Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Niagra,
Laurel Aitken,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Black Pus,
Arab on Radar,
Swell Maps,
Letta Mbulu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Hashim,
The Cure,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
DNA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Hood,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terry Callier,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
Eli Mardock,
Aswad,
Joe Smooth,
Theoretical Girls,
Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zero Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yazoo,
The Techniques,
June Days,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
Main Source,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.