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 Lebanon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fugazi to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
Quantec,
Nas,
Mission of Burma,
Clear Light,
The Young Rascals,
Oblivians,
JFA,
Iggy Pop,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dark Day,
Thee Headcoats,
Al Stewart,
Patti Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Max Romeo,
Slick Rick,
Gong,
Bobby Womack,
Nils Olav,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
The Fortunes,
X-101,
Althea and Donna,
Bluetip,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Josef K,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Leonard Cohen,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
T. Rex,
Soul II Soul,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mad Mike,
The Zeros,
The Remains,
Boz Scaggs,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.