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 Mongolia and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Patti Smith to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
Deakin,
The Victims,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Carl Craig,
Marc Almond,
Mission of Burma,
Anakelly,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Pagans,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
Royal Trux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Connie Case,
Parry Music,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Joy Division,
Icehouse,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Wake,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barry Ungar,
Mars,
Roger Hodgson,
David Axelrod,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scott Walker,
Scientists,
Gong,
ABC,
Quantec,
Jeff Lynne,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Max Romeo,
Black Flag,
Ornette Coleman,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
Surgeon,
Q and Not U,
Unwound,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.