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 Syria and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 Star Department to the rap 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Golliwogs,
Shoche,
Sight & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Inner City,
The Kinks,
X-102,
Byron Stingily,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Basic Channel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q65,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Sheep,
Depeche Mode,
The New Christs,
Goldenarms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
the Slits,
the Germs,
Unwound,
Los Fastidios,
Monks,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
Prince Buster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Camouflage,
Laurel Aitken,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Moody Blues,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tres Demented,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Second Layer,
Easy Going,
Carl Craig,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sonics,
The Last Poets,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maleditus Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
The Barracudas,
Visage,
The Stooges,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.