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 Cameroon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Ultimate Spinach to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Don Cherry,
David Bowie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Music Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
New York Dolls,
B.T. Express,
Marvin Gaye,
Boredoms,
Dark Day,
James White and The Blacks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quadrant,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eurythmics,
Joensuu 1685,
Pole,
Lungfish,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Juan Atkins,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tropical Tobacco,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Neon Judgement,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quando Quango,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun City Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
June Days,
Cameo,
The Fall,
Soft Cell,
Wire,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.