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 Algeria and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 David McCallum to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Trumans Water,
Gang Starr,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Aswad,
AZ,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
The Golliwogs,
The Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
The Standells,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
Lakeside,
Oneida,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quadrant,
Zapp,
The Doors,
Warsaw,
The Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Deepchord,
Pagans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tubeway Army,
Youth Brigade,
Yaz,
New Order,
Soft Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Associates,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brand Nubian,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
The Raincoats,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Theoretical Girls,
Harmonia,
Rites of Spring,
Man Eating Sloth,
Juan Atkins,
The Durutti Column,
the Germs,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxette,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.