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 Indonesia and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
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 theremin 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the disco 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
Blossom Toes,
Absolute Body Control,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Section 25,
The Wake,
Sparks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Fatback Band,
Neu!,
the Bar-Kays,
Donny Hathaway,
Circle Jerks,
cv313,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
Buzzcocks,
The Gories,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton,
Tomorrow,
Q65,
Lindisfarne,
The Doors,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scrapy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ituana,
Juan Atkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suicide,
Amon Düül,
UT,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bad Manners,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blackbyrds,
Cluster,
Robert Wyatt,
Erasure,
Nirvana,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.