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 Estonia 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Byron Stingily to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Ice-T,
Pole,
Mantronix,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
Liliput,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gap Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Tremeloes,
Amazonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
Ossler,
Barrington Levy,
Mandrill,
Eurythmics,
Cameo,
Chris & Cosey,
New Order,
Rosa Yemen,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy Collins,
Angry Samoans,
The Fuzztones,
Hardrive,
X-101,
Zero Boys,
Intrusion,
Gichy Dan,
Al Stewart,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Stooges,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Offenders,
Reagan Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
Index,
Ultravox,
Sällskapet,
Zapp,
LL Cool J,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
Janne Schatter,
Inner City,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.