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 Italy and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Jeff Lynne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Lower 48,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
Goldenarms,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Chrome,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Outsiders,
F. McDonald,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
Brass Construction,
The Angels of Light,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dead C,
Television,
Dawn Penn,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Joe Finger,
Massinfluence,
Anthony Braxton,
Harry Pussy,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nick Fraelich,
X-Ray Spex,
The Residents,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
Nico,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dark Day,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sight & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kayak,
Jandek,
Hoover,
CMW,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.