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 Liechtenstein and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Can 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ornette Coleman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Model 500,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arab on Radar,
Carl Craig,
Youth Brigade,
Chrome,
Tom Boy,
Swans,
the Slits,
Symarip,
Wire,
Peter and Kerry,
The Saints,
The J.B.'s,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cal Tjader,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Livin' Joy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
KRS-One,
Agitation Free,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
Nirvana,
The Tremeloes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Heaven 17,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.