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 Tanzania and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bad Manners to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Shoche,
Cheater Slicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Whodini,
Harmonia,
Zero Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yellowson,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Interpol,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
DJ Style,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thompson Twins,
The Victims,
Crime,
Cal Tjader,
China Crisis,
Sarah Menescal,
Dennis Brown,
Jeru the Damaja,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T.S.O.L.,
Donny Hathaway,
Scion,
LL Cool J,
Popol Vuh,
Mad Mike,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul II Soul,
Spoonie Gee,
Eurythmics,
Subhumans,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erykah Badu,
The Doors,
ABBA,
Ultra Naté,
Moebius,
The Sonics,
Wings,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Minnie Riperton,
Mantronix,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Surgeon,
Youth Brigade,
Jandek,
Glenn Branca,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.