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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Pop Group to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Camberwell Now,
Donny Hathaway,
Boredoms,
Pylon,
Kaleidoscope,
Sarah Menescal,
David Axelrod,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Matthew Bourne,
Yusef Lateef,
Bill Wells,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Lebanon Hanover,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Swell Maps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sällskapet,
Groovy Waters,
Cluster,
The Offenders,
Franke,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
Fluxion,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Scratch Acid,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unrelated Segments,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vainqueur,
Josef K,
Jawbox,
Maurizio,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.