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 Peru 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dead C to the grunge 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Blossom Toes,
Oblivians,
H. Thieme,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
Thompson Twins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Certain Ratio,
Fugazi,
Joy Division,
Eve St. Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
Cluster,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
Ronnie Foster,
FM Einheit,
Crash Course in Science,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric Copeland,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sam Rivers,
Lightning Bolt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
Royal Trux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Au Pairs,
The Neon Judgement,
Hardrive,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
Yazoo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Sällskapet,
The Trojans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Subhumans,
The Dirtbombs,
Pierre Henry,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
T. Rex,
Jawbox,
Excepter,
The Sound,
Goldenarms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
DJ Style,
Marmalade,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.