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 Panama and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the dance 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nils Olav,
The Mummies,
Alton Ellis,
The Litter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Harmonia,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
These Immortal Souls,
K-Klass,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
T. Rex,
MDC,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
U.S. Maple,
The Trojans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Moby Grape,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Freddie Wadling,
Althea and Donna,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Young Marble Giants,
New Order,
Fatback Band,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
Connie Case,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Grass Roots,
the Fania All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lakeside,
Delon & Dalcan,
Duran Duran,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pagans,
Colin Newman,
Bauhaus,
Danielle Patucci,
Dave Gahan,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.