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 Germany 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pulsallama to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Pole,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
D'Angelo,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crooked Eye,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
In Retrospect,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
The Sound,
Guru Guru,
Ultra Naté,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kevin Saunderson,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marine Girls,
Marmalade,
Underground Resistance,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fear,
Sonic Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Cale,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mandrill,
The Searchers,
Stetsasonic,
FM Einheit,
Monks,
the Slits,
Radiohead,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Charles Mingus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
Wolf Eyes,
Drexciya,
Tubeway Army,
Masters at Work,
Nico,
The Seeds,
JFA,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.