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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Public Image Ltd. to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Ronan,
Maleditus Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boz Scaggs,
Flipper,
Trumans Water,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
Blancmange,
Hasil Adkins,
JFA,
Moss Icon,
The Dirtbombs,
The Trojans,
Mad Mike,
Funkadelic,
Pulsallama,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Icehouse,
The Fortunes,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-101,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Altered Images,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Television,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Swans,
The Dead C,
Bobby Byrd,
The Standells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Young Rascals,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Index,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Motions,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
Lalann,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.