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 Singapore and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
The Vogues,
The Modern Lovers,
U.S. Maple,
Roxette,
the Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Magazine,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
Zapp,
Hot Snakes,
Sugar Minott,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reagan Youth,
Cymande,
Dave Gahan,
Interpol,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Y Pants,
Guru Guru,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department,
Severed Heads,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flamin' Groovies,
Icehouse,
Cheater Slicks,
Ohio Players,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
K-Klass,
Procol Harum,
the Swans,
Quantec,
Warsaw,
Lou Christie,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Simply Red,
Symarip,
Subhumans,
Ituana,
Bush Tetras,
ABBA,
Soft Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Moon,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.