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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Seeds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
the Soft Cell,
Whodini,
Tears for Fears,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Carl Craig,
Faraquet,
Dave Gahan,
OOIOO,
Aswad,
Slick Rick,
Kerri Chandler,
UT,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Model 500,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Busters,
Young Marble Giants,
Subhumans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scratch Acid,
The Leaves,
Fad Gadget,
Jacob Miller,
Moss Icon,
Eurythmics,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
The United States of America,
Wasted Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Funky Four + One,
Fear,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
The Toasters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dawn Penn,
a-ha,
The Raincoats,
Albert Ayler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Brass Construction,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
DNA,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.