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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Funky Four + One to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Smog,
Dead Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gong,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fear,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barbara Tucker,
Easy Going,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Görl,
Sam Rivers,
The Walker Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Charles Mingus,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
John Coltrane,
the Association,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eddi Front,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cowsills,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt,
Television,
Fad Gadget,
The Dave Clark Five,
Josef K,
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Agitation Free,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liliput,
Patti Smith,
the Human League,
Godley & Creme,
The Monks,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.