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 Monaco 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin 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 Charles Mingus to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Q65,
Eve St. Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Depeche Mode,
Dead Boys,
June of 44,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Colin Newman,
Intrusion,
Magma,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Tommy Roe,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tom Boy,
Sarah Menescal,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
Tears for Fears,
Agent Orange,
Glambeats Corp.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
The Cure,
Porter Ricks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Technova,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Audionom,
Patti Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Cheater Slicks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
Skaos,
Symarip,
Soul Sonic Force,
Babytalk,
The Smoke,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
a-ha,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.