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 Guinea-Bissau and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aural Exciters to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Drive Like Jehu,
Average White Band,
Suburban Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Nick Fraelich,
X-101,
Underground Resistance,
Albert Ayler,
Idris Muhammad,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
Crooked Eye,
Quando Quango,
Ten City,
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
L. Decosne,
Henry Cow,
Joyce Sims,
Harry Pussy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Metal Thangz,
Ralphi Rosario,
These Immortal Souls,
Mission of Burma,
The Busters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Finger,
Dennis Brown,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joensuu 1685,
Joey Negro,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Gladiators,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Simply Red,
Fat Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Wally Richardson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vainqueur,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.