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 Oman and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Holt to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Connie Case,
Morten Harket,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Skatalites,
Skriet,
L. Decosne,
Pierre Henry,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
Pagans,
Black Sheep,
Tim Buckley,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
Oblivians,
Anthony Braxton,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Slits,
Mars,
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Almond,
Clear Light,
Scan 7,
The Techniques,
The Neon Judgement,
The Star Department,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
Quando Quango,
Brand Nubian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Infiniti,
The Fuzztones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Animal Collective,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Patti Smith,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
Fad Gadget,
The Stooges,
The Invisible,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cheater Slicks,
Ten City,
The Shadows of Knight,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.