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 Egypt and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scan 7,
Procol Harum,
Morten Harket,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sight & Sound,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Rotary Connection,
Delta 5,
Skaos,
Fat Boys,
Khruangbin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brass Construction,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
E-Dancer,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Byrd,
Terry Callier,
The Gladiators,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
The Raincoats,
the Human League,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
Pere Ubu,
B.T. Express,
ABC,
The Moleskins,
Tubeway Army,
Heaven 17,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
The Move,
David McCallum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Shoche,
John Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.