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 Ecuador and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Funkadelic to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The Martian,
the Sonics,
Drexciya,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
E-Dancer,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Fluxion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Christie,
Average White Band,
Excepter,
Gabor Szabo,
Television,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Malaria!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
Crooked Eye,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Sheep,
Model 500,
Subhumans,
Kenny Larkin,
Marine Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Grauzone,
Lakeside,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Bananas,
Spandau Ballet,
Supertramp,
The Selecter,
Schoolly D,
Negative Approach,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Jeru the Damaja,
Surgeon,
David McCallum,
Bad Manners,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alice Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.