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 Portugal and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 The Trojans to the punk 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
Todd Rundgren,
Suburban Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Y Pants,
Ronnie Foster,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
The Five Americans,
The Smoke,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
The Evens,
Magazine,
Ice-T,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fall,
UT,
Pagans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Sherman,
Radio Birdman,
Fat Boys,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Blackbyrds,
Marvin Gaye,
Shoche,
The Tremeloes,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Archie Shepp,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Althea and Donna,
Boredoms,
Tommy Roe,
Mars,
EPMD,
cv313,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cramps,
Gichy Dan,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
E-Dancer,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.