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 St Lucia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Black Moon to the rock 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
the Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Essential Logic,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Fraelich,
Metal Thangz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Davy DMX,
Whodini,
kango's stein massive,
Minutemen,
Theoretical Girls,
E-Dancer,
Spoonie Gee,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blossom Toes,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fortunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
Sandy B,
Bang On A Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Banda Bassotti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Techniques,
Lucky Dragons,
Unrelated Segments,
Warsaw,
The Monks,
The Real Kids,
Bauhaus,
Make Up,
Niagra,
June Days,
Bluetip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
The Shadows of Knight,
Qualms,
The Offenders,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.