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 Colombia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Isaac Hayes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
Los Fastidios,
Shoche,
Arab on Radar,
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Michelle Simonal,
The Happenings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faraquet,
Tears for Fears,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tomorrow,
The American Breed,
June Days,
Pylon,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
B.T. Express,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sight & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
The Residents,
Au Pairs,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spoonie Gee,
Marine Girls,
Lakeside,
Tropical Tobacco,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantaleimon,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angry Samoans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick May,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Steve Hackett,
Moby Grape,
Colin Newman,
Joy Division,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.