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 Slovenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Wally Richardson to the punk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Simply Red,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
Fluxion,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arthur Verocai,
Fugazi,
Yazoo,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Goldenarms,
Terry Callier,
The Gories,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tim Buckley,
Camouflage,
R.M.O.,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronan,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Arcadia,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Second Layer,
Moebius,
Juan Atkins,
Morten Harket,
Rufus Thomas,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
Drexciya,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
T. Rex,
Byron Stingily,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Radio Birdman,
The Grass Roots,
the Soft Cell,
Moss Icon,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.