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 Slovenia and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eddi Front to the rock 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Prince Buster,
The Move,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Flag,
Jawbox,
Gang Green,
Camberwell Now,
Oblivians,
Soft Cell,
The Trojans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Public Enemy,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cure,
Model 500,
Wire,
Outsiders,
Technova,
U.S. Maple,
Cymande,
Davy DMX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Bill Near,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Parry Music,
La Düsseldorf,
Au Pairs,
The Real Kids,
Sound Behaviour,
Goldenarms,
X-102,
Country Teasers,
Alison Limerick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Arthur Verocai,
Adolescents,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall,
Dual Sessions,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.