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 Lesotho and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Scott Walker to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
John Holt,
the Germs,
Oneida,
Suicide,
The Divine Comedy,
Nirvana,
Althea and Donna,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Outsiders,
Khruangbin,
The Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
the Normal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Copeland,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Gichy Dan,
The Star Department,
The Gladiators,
Simply Red,
Q and Not U,
Soulsonic Force,
AZ,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül,
Funkadelic,
Mo-Dettes,
Arthur Verocai,
Ossler,
Marmalade,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
The Beau Brummels,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joy Division,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pylon,
Roxette,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.