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 Tuvalu and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 The J.B.'s to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
kango's stein massive,
Stetsasonic,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick May,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
cv313,
ABC,
Lou Christie,
Pere Ubu,
Donald Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
June of 44,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Happenings,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
8 Eyed Spy,
The Trojans,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun City Girls,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Eurythmics,
Jawbox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vainqueur,
DJ Style,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funky Four + One,
John Coltrane,
This Heat,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
Neu!,
Terry Callier,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
New Order,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.