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 Australia and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grime 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Pole,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
Das Ding,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Copeland,
Outsiders,
John Foxx,
Shuggie Otis,
Jandek,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
LL Cool J,
Nik Kershaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Babytalk,
Slick Rick,
The J.B.'s,
Intrusion,
Tim Buckley,
Reagan Youth,
Stetsasonic,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Scott Walker,
Nico,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantaleimon,
Hoover,
Public Image Ltd.,
Smog,
Juan Atkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lightning Bolt,
OOIOO,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Bananas,
Pagans,
Nirvana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joyce Sims,
David Axelrod,
Depeche Mode,
The Trojans,
Crooked Eye,
Chrome,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.