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 Grenada and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 Jacques Brel to the rap 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Supertramp,
Connie Case,
Tom Boy,
A Certain Ratio,
June of 44,
R.M.O.,
Ten City,
Eve St. Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harry Pussy,
LL Cool J,
Schoolly D,
The Pretty Things,
Lebanon Hanover,
Al Stewart,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Minny Pops,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Maurizio,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Guru Guru,
Con Funk Shun,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Absolute Body Control,
Niagra,
Kenny Larkin,
Pulsallama,
Peter & Gordon,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up,
Mr. Review,
The J.B.'s,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Soulsonic Force,
Qualms,
Lakeside,
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Leonard Cohen,
Pere Ubu,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Lindisfarne,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.