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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
The Walker Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
Alphaville,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Aural Exciters,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Grauzone,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Peter and Kerry,
Neu!,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Soft Cell,
Cluster,
Alice Coltrane,
Talk Talk,
Bill Near,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick May,
Franke,
Brand Nubian,
MC5,
The Evens,
48th St. Collective,
Babytalk,
Pussy Galore,
Lalo Schifrin,
Al Stewart,
R.M.O.,
Reagan Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sugar Minott,
La Düsseldorf,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Easy Going,
Lindisfarne,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Stooges,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxy Music,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers,
Sun City Girls,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.