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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Joyce Sims 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Heaven 17,
The Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
The Red Krayola,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
The Moody Blues,
The Gladiators,
Von Mondo,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Toasters,
Eric Dolphy,
Max Romeo,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Rundgren,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
B.T. Express,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Excepter,
Barrington Levy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
Pole,
KRS-One,
Lalann,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Cell,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Victims,
Echospace,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can,
Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.