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 Colombia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MC5 to the techno 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Smog,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brick,
Royal Trux,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Leonard Cohen,
Rapeman,
The Electric Prunes,
Mantronix,
The Toasters,
D'Angelo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
Gang Green,
Stockholm Monsters,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Danielle Patucci,
Wings,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Görl,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
cv313,
The Tremeloes,
The Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Scratch Acid,
Carl Craig,
Wire,
The Slits,
June of 44,
Steve Hackett,
48th St. Collective,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Index,
The Star Department,
Quando Quango,
The Wake,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Pantytec,
CMW,
The Remains,
Fela Kuti,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
The Names,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
the Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.