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 Guyana and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Smiths to the rock 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Lakeside,
CMW,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Panda Bear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Victims,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sandy B,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Livin' Joy,
The Moleskins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
DJ Style,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eden Ahbez,
Eddi Front,
The Mojo Men,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Moody Blues,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
Circle Jerks,
Cybotron,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Davy DMX,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
Drexciya,
John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Quantec,
The J.B.'s,
Inner City,
a-ha,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Dead Boys,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.