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 Hungary and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pantaleimon to the rap 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Skriet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spoonie Gee,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Shoche,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Grass Roots,
Faraquet,
Sun Ra,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
Hardrive,
Outsiders,
Jawbox,
Wasted Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Animal Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
Royal Trux,
Cal Tjader,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monolake,
Hot Snakes,
Susan Cadogan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
World's Most,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grauzone,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy Collins,
Moby Grape,
Barbara Tucker,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Loose Ends,
Gang of Four,
X-Ray Spex,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Black Pus,
Crash Course in Science,
Morten Harket,
Young Marble Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Country Teasers,
Vladislav Delay,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tubeway Army,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.