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 Guatemala and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Dual Sessions to the rock 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
The New Christs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Gang Dance,
Royal Trux,
Howard Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bluetip,
Surgeon,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Minny Pops,
The Names,
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moleskins,
The Martian,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eve St. Jones,
Country Teasers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Germs,
Todd Rundgren,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
MDC,
Thee Headcoats,
Main Source,
The Gun Club,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New Order,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mojo Men,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sandy B,
Little Man,
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.