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 Swaziland and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rotary Connection to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stereo Dub,
Hasil Adkins,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sam Rivers,
Gong,
The Index,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Dual Sessions,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Count Five,
Eurythmics,
Barrington Levy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Excepter,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Vogues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
The Associates,
the Association,
Pole,
Nico,
Buzzcocks,
Stetsasonic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Byrd,
Marmalade,
Section 25,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Peter & Gordon,
Derrick Morgan,
Lyres,
Man Eating Sloth,
Michelle Simonal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cluster,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
John Cale,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ken Boothe,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.