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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Malaria!,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Bush Tetras,
Easy Going,
Porter Ricks,
Underground Resistance,
Ultravox,
Second Layer,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Saints,
In Retrospect,
Audionom,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang of Four,
Lou Christie,
Frankie Knuckles,
Essential Logic,
Theoretical Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Slave,
Morten Harket,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Pus,
Shoche,
kango's stein massive,
Cal Tjader,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Erasure,
Barbara Tucker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
The Smoke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
the Association,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
ABC,
Lyres,
Neu!,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.