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 Bahamas and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Standells to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
The Walker Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-101,
Barbara Tucker,
a-ha,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Misunderstood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Don Cherry,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultravox,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
The Fall,
The Wake,
Pulsallama,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
The Sonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soulsonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
One Last Wish,
Kerri Chandler,
Maurizio,
Q and Not U,
Leonard Cohen,
Minny Pops,
Alton Ellis,
Gong,
The Evens,
The Slackers,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aural Exciters,
The Vogues,
Moebius,
Amon Düül II,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aswad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
The Human League,
The Monks,
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.