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 Cambodia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cowsills,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
Jawbox,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jacob Miller,
the Sonics,
John Lydon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Clarke,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
John Cale,
a-ha,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül II,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
Delta 5,
Suicide,
Black Moon,
Yazoo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Teasers,
The Gap Band,
The Residents,
Animal Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
The Standells,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
Andrew Hill,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
Freddie Wadling,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.