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 Germany and from Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eddi Front to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
X-101,
Albert Ayler,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül,
Slick Rick,
The Slits,
Visage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
Lalann,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dirtbombs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Faust,
Fad Gadget,
Rekid,
Connie Case,
Leonard Cohen,
Buzzcocks,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed,
The Raincoats,
EPMD,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harry Pussy,
Sixth Finger,
The Last Poets,
Blake Baxter,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Idris Muhammad,
Simply Red,
Ornette Coleman,
KRS-One,
Barrington Levy,
Flipper,
Reagan Youth,
The Monks,
Erasure,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Delta 5,
Make Up,
Procol Harum,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.