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 Luxembourg and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Cameo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Prince Buster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
LL Cool J,
Severed Heads,
Man Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
Chris Corsano,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cramps,
Liliput,
The Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Womack,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
MDC,
Blossom Toes,
Gong,
The Vogues,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Crash Course in Science,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reagan Youth,
Pole,
Young Marble Giants,
Wings,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heaven 17,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Blackbyrds,
Barrington Levy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stereo Dub,
Youth Brigade,
The Velvet Underground,
Porter Ricks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick May,
KRS-One,
Iggy Pop,
MC5,
Eli Mardock,
June Days,
Y Pants,
Nico,
Darondo,
The Techniques,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.