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 Paraguay 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camberwell Now to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Duran Duran,
Camberwell Now,
The Alarm Clocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad,
Stiv Bators,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gun Club,
Deepchord,
The Count Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Symarip,
Charles Mingus,
the Swans,
Mark Hollis,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Panda Bear,
Niagra,
Faust,
This Heat,
Black Sheep,
Erasure,
Pantytec,
Lightning Bolt,
Accadde A,
Ituana,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Association,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aaron Thompson,
Lucky Dragons,
Q and Not U,
Funkadelic,
Lakeside,
The Slits,
Todd Terry,
The Pretty Things,
The Angels of Light,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
Echospace,
Television Personalities,
David McCallum,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deakin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Pierre Henry,
The Zeros,
Jerry's Kids,
Soulsonic Force,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.