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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Circle Jerks to the techno 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Crooked Eye,
The Doors,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stereo Dub,
Chrome,
Tres Demented,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Icehouse,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
Jacques Brel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
Marvin Gaye,
Chris & Cosey,
Minny Pops,
The American Breed,
Glenn Branca,
Anakelly,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
L. Decosne,
Suburban Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Dead Boys,
Qualms,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flipper,
Graham Central Station,
Sparks,
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Sight & Sound,
Faust,
Lou Christie,
Iggy Pop,
Connie Case,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.