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 Ireland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arab on Radar to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crime,
Altered Images,
Das Ding,
Tom Boy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lungfish,
The Busters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Supertramp,
Toni Rubio,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Von Mondo,
Sixth Finger,
The Evens,
Monks,
T. Rex,
Unwound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Simply Red,
Black Sheep,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Yazoo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Sonics,
Franke,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Junior Murvin,
The Fugs,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
X-101,
Erykah Badu,
Royal Trux,
David Bowie,
Derrick Morgan,
Leonard Cohen,
Ten City,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minnie Riperton,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sister Nancy,
Grauzone,
Au Pairs,
Sun City Girls,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.