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 Egypt and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin 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 Public Image Ltd. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yellowson,
Fela Kuti,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Magma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül,
Siglo XX,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Johnny Clarke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Associates,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Massinfluence,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
L. Decosne,
Anakelly,
Godley & Creme,
The Black Dice,
Mantronix,
OOIOO,
The Divine Comedy,
The Beau Brummels,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Modern Lovers,
Sarah Menescal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
The Mummies,
Section 25,
Cecil Taylor,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Holt,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Desert Stars,
The Busters,
The Tremeloes,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.