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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the punk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon 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?
Roxy Music,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Panda Bear,
Boz Scaggs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
JFA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Magma,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül II,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Pretty Things,
The Busters,
Bob Dylan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Associates,
The Divine Comedy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Basic Channel,
Rakim,
Quantec,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick Morgan,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
The Mummies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ice-T,
Prince Buster,
Archie Shepp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skarface,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Fraelich,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joy Division,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
E-Dancer,
Skaos,
Pylon,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
The Modern Lovers,
Isaac Hayes,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.