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 Bolivia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jacques Brel 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Tommy Roe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
China Crisis,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Motorama,
Sonic Youth,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Andrew Hill,
FM Einheit,
Babytalk,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Green,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barrington Levy,
Leonard Cohen,
Spoonie Gee,
Ten City,
Echospace,
Television,
The Motions,
Quantec,
Johnny Clarke,
Gichy Dan,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange,
Hoover,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Erasure,
Lungfish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gories,
New Order,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cymande,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.