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 India and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cowsills to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Siglo XX,
Bad Manners,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
Masters at Work,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The American Breed,
the Association,
Bang On A Can,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Negative Approach,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Flipper,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
Eli Mardock,
Average White Band,
Camouflage,
Rites of Spring,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu,
Quadrant,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
X-102,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Bizarre Inc.,
Howard Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
The Invisible,
Make Up,
The Fuzztones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Motorama,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Quando Quango,
Rotary Connection,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lower 48,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Blancmange,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
OOIOO,
Leonard Cohen,
The Walker Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.