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 Mauritania and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Agent Orange to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
The Offenders,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
Minor Threat,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
Scan 7,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
Tomorrow,
Junior Murvin,
The Happenings,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sound Behaviour,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
PIL,
The Barracudas,
ABBA,
The Last Poets,
Susan Cadogan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
Sparks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minutemen,
Connie Case,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.