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 Indonesia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Quando Quango 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
The Gladiators,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
The Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Mills,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
AZ,
John Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
Groovy Waters,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lakeside,
The Move,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
The Wake,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeff Lynne,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
the Human League,
Connie Case,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Radio Birdman,
Essential Logic,
Nas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Accadde A,
Black Bananas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Pus,
Q65,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.