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 Tajikistan and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott Heron to the rap 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soul II Soul,
Slick Rick,
Pantytec,
Yusef Lateef,
The Divine Comedy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hashim,
Gang of Four,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
The Names,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
Mark Hollis,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
John Lydon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Babytalk,
Wire,
Country Teasers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Starr,
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
Rotary Connection,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anthony Braxton,
Index,
Minny Pops,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
Ultra Naté,
Shoche,
The Sonics,
the Human League,
Jawbox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
Man Eating Sloth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roxy Music,
B.T. Express,
K-Klass,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.