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 Croatia and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dual Sessions,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Knickerbockers,
Brick,
Nirvana,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed,
Steve Hackett,
Easy Going,
Essential Logic,
Silicon Teens,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Swell Maps,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blues Magoos,
Clear Light,
The Raincoats,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
Hardrive,
Little Man,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Chrome,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liliput,
Donald Byrd,
Kenny Larkin,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Wyatt,
John Foxx,
Alphaville,
Pantaleimon,
David Bowie,
Ronan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Byron Stingily,
The Vogues,
Symarip,
Unrelated Segments,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Sherman,
Matthew Halsall,
Alton Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.