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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grime 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slits,
Outsiders,
Q and Not U,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Country Teasers,
Althea and Donna,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
Jeff Lynne,
the Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
Deepchord,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick May,
Talk Talk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slick Rick,
Blancmange,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
H. Thieme,
Stereo Dub,
DNA,
Echospace,
Clear Light,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
The Index,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radiohead,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Icehouse,
10cc,
Massinfluence,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Circle Jerks,
Symarip,
Roger Hodgson,
Reagan Youth,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kayak,
Rod Modell,
Rotary Connection,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.