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 Guatemala and from New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Smiths to the grunge 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
the Sonics,
Godley & Creme,
DNA,
The Durutti Column,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Christie,
Con Funk Shun,
The Golliwogs,
Josef K,
Motorama,
Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Swans,
The Vogues,
DJ Style,
Magma,
Howard Jones,
Neil Young,
Nils Olav,
Duran Duran,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus,
Stetsasonic,
Deadbeat,
Animal Collective,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Minor Threat,
Faust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Franke,
Brass Construction,
Theoretical Girls,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
Juan Atkins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
Fat Boys,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
Parry Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Mills,
Symarip,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.