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 Costa Rica and from Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Monolake to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
a-ha,
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pere Ubu,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
Carl Craig,
Eurythmics,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
ABBA,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Easy Going,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
The Happenings,
D'Angelo,
Lower 48,
The Motions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Banda Bassotti,
Underground Resistance,
The Golliwogs,
Tomorrow,
Malaria!,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
The Count Five,
Funkadelic,
Young Marble Giants,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
Ponytail,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Aloha Tigers,
Unwound,
Monolake,
Suburban Knight,
John Foxx,
Kenny Larkin,
10cc,
The Cure,
E-Dancer,
Slick Rick,
Radiohead,
Ornette Coleman,
Nik Kershaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.