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 Beijing.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flamin' Groovies to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
The Birthday Party,
Hot Snakes,
Vainqueur,
Bad Manners,
The Cramps,
Sparks,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wire,
Schoolly D,
The Kinks,
The Fortunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
Black Pus,
Public Image Ltd.,
One Last Wish,
Tubeway Army,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
Slick Rick,
Deepchord,
Stereo Dub,
The Vogues,
The Searchers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Niagra,
Babytalk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kas Product,
Pole,
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kayak,
Monks,
Scan 7,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hardrive,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Wings,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.