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 Barbados and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Standells to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Davy DMX,
DJ Sneak,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
Junior Murvin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
LL Cool J,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tommy Roe,
Desert Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Graham Central Station,
Rotary Connection,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Public Image Ltd.,
Franke,
Wire,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman,
Laurel Aitken,
Flash Fearless,
The Star Department,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Clear Light,
Pulsallama,
Silicon Teens,
The Slackers,
Circle Jerks,
The Moleskins,
New York Dolls,
The United States of America,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
The Move,
The Evens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DJ Style,
The Mojo Men,
Warsaw,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sällskapet,
PIL,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.