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 Solomon Islands and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Niagra to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
The New Christs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Darondo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Excepter,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
John Lydon,
Little Man,
Echospace,
Ponytail,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
Black Flag,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
UT,
Soul II Soul,
Deadbeat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
The Misunderstood,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
China Crisis,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
Deepchord,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Sällskapet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agitation Free,
Don Cherry,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.