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 Uruguay and from Manchester.
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 Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Maleditus Sound,
Monolake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Reuben Wilson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Unwound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fear,
Main Source,
The Buckinghams,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sixth Finger,
Von Mondo,
Tommy Roe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Minor Threat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
Quantec,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
The Velvet Underground,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fugs,
E-Dancer,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fuzztones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Trumans Water,
Scrapy,
The Motions,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Robert Hood,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mojo Men,
Guru Guru,
the Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.