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 Mali and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 kango's stein massive to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
New Age Steppers,
X-Ray Spex,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Nas,
Goldenarms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
Nirvana,
Prince Buster,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
PIL,
Scott Walker,
Second Layer,
Tomorrow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
Roxette,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
Eli Mardock,
The Durutti Column,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Wells,
David McCallum,
Crash Course in Science,
Siglo XX,
The Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
E-Dancer,
Chris & Cosey,
the Normal,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joe Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skaos,
Cameo,
Rufus Thomas,
Sparks,
Jeff Lynne,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
Youth Brigade,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
The Velvet Underground,
DNA,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Selecter,
The Gladiators,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.