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 Ethiopia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crime to the crunk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
48th St. Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Visage,
Shoche,
Joe Smooth,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Axelrod,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Raincoats,
The Electric Prunes,
MDC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monolake,
Alton Ellis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Echospace,
The Evens,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Erykah Badu,
Cluster,
B.T. Express,
Joey Negro,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yusef Lateef,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
L. Decosne,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Human League,
Rekid,
Au Pairs,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rotary Connection,
Skaos,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fuzztones,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
Saccharine Trust,
Glenn Branca,
Radiopuhelimet,
Charles Mingus,
Outsiders,
Robert Wyatt,
MC5,
The American Breed,
Yellowson,
Grey Daturas,
Television Personalities,
Little Man,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.