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 Czech Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Scratch Acid,
Mr. Review,
Boz Scaggs,
Erasure,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
Roxette,
Monks,
Kurtis Blow,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Icehouse,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
Soulsonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Ornette Coleman,
Swell Maps,
James White and The Blacks,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
Lakeside,
Dead Boys,
Deakin,
Das Ding,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Faust,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alison Limerick,
Infiniti,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Moby Grape,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Average White Band,
Blake Baxter,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
Toni Rubio,
Sun City Girls,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.