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 Maldives and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Vogues to the dance 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Slick Rick,
Visage,
Althea and Donna,
The Sonics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The American Breed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aswad,
The Smiths,
Schoolly D,
Cheater Slicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Essential Logic,
Organ,
Basic Channel,
Spandau Ballet,
In Retrospect,
Zero Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Idris Muhammad,
Accadde A,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
The Victims,
The Count Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Peter & Gordon,
Radio Birdman,
Laurel Aitken,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liliput,
Silicon Teens,
Soft Cell,
Pierre Henry,
The Moody Blues,
Joensuu 1685,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Stereo Dub,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Icehouse,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
Amon Düül,
Leonard Cohen,
Skaos,
Altered Images,
Unrelated Segments,
Archie Shepp,
X-102,
The Gap Band,
Faraquet,
Janne Schatter,
Tubeway Army,
The Skatalites,
Roy Ayers,
Dead Boys,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.