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 Singapore 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 Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Das Ding to the grime 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
The Barracudas,
Japan,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
The Raincoats,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
MDC,
Terry Callier,
CMW,
Janne Schatter,
The Names,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Jacob Miller,
Lakeside,
Black Sheep,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Royal Trux,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Suburban Knight,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
World's Most,
ABBA,
Nick Fraelich,
Throbbing Gristle,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lee Hazlewood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Audionom,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
The Black Dice,
The Neon Judgement,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Ronnie Foster,
Cymande,
Maurizio,
Aaron Thompson,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.