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 Laos and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selecter to the rap 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Sixth Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joy Division,
The Vogues,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yaz,
Aloha Tigers,
Loose Ends,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Osbourne,
DNA,
Josef K,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
The Happenings,
The Trojans,
Alton Ellis,
Rotary Connection,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Tubeway Army,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spandau Ballet,
Camberwell Now,
Reagan Youth,
Deakin,
MDC,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Bourne,
Joey Negro,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tom Boy,
Marine Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Copeland,
Lightning Bolt,
Ossler,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chris Corsano,
Pulsallama,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Invisible,
The Cure,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.