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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Urselle,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Moon,
Roxette,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
JFA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Icehouse,
Talk Talk,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
The Count Five,
Quando Quango,
Simply Red,
Ronnie Foster,
Niagra,
Matthew Bourne,
Bluetip,
Rotary Connection,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
CMW,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
Rufus Thomas,
Agitation Free,
Parry Music,
Rosa Yemen,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms,
Flipper,
Barbara Tucker,
Monolake,
China Crisis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
a-ha,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dawn Penn,
Easy Going,
Minutemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television Personalities,
Cecil Taylor,
X-101,
Jawbox,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.