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 Belarus and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Matthew Halsall,
MC5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Laurel Aitken,
a-ha,
These Immortal Souls,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxy Music,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
The Martian,
Monks,
DJ Style,
Bronski Beat,
Rapeman,
The Real Kids,
The Mummies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
Aural Exciters,
E-Dancer,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Bananas,
Idris Muhammad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Moon,
Gang Starr,
Andrew Hill,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Sound Behaviour,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
Gong,
The Smoke,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aswad,
John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
Aaron Thompson,
Accadde A,
Nik Kershaw,
Joy Division,
Don Cherry,
Cybotron,
Visage,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.