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 Bahrain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Max Romeo,
UT,
Ponytail,
Lightning Bolt,
E-Dancer,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Danielle Patucci,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rod Modell,
The Kinks,
Deepchord,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joensuu 1685,
Intrusion,
Tommy Roe,
Fluxion,
PIL,
Matthew Halsall,
The Birthday Party,
Warsaw,
Minutemen,
a-ha,
The Techniques,
Faraquet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
LL Cool J,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
Gang of Four,
Judy Mowatt,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Byron Stingily,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül,
Marine Girls,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol,
John Holt,
Bill Wells,
Silicon Teens,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.