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 Kuwait and from Philadelphia.
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 Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hashim to the jazz 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare,
Organ,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
The Names,
The Invisible,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
The Mummies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quando Quango,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Cluster,
Eve St. Jones,
KRS-One,
The Motions,
Groovy Waters,
Agent Orange,
Sex Pistols,
The Real Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Pus,
Bobby Sherman,
Procol Harum,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
Roy Ayers,
Faust,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barbara Tucker,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
Wire,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
Stiv Bators,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerri Chandler,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
Shuggie Otis,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
John Cale,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
Altered Images,
Pussy Galore,
Chrome,
Agitation Free,
Saccharine Trust,
Thompson Twins,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.