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 Thailand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Normal to the rap 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Bobby Sherman,
Index,
Al Stewart,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
John Lydon,
The Birthday Party,
Erykah Badu,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Banda Bassotti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Toni Rubio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Zapp,
Darondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Symarip,
Country Teasers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
Roxette,
Skaos,
Ultravox,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kayak,
New Order,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Henry Cow,
Delon & Dalcan,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Boredoms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Five Americans,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.