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 Mozambique and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Liliput to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
Jacques Brel,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
The Monochrome Set,
The Residents,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Marine Girls,
The Human League,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mandrill,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Banda Bassotti,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Sister Nancy,
Eden Ahbez,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
Lou Christie,
EPMD,
Cecil Taylor,
Goldenarms,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Severed Heads,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
The Red Krayola,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stockholm Monsters,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Interpol,
Nas,
Peter and Kerry,
A Certain Ratio,
UT,
the Normal,
Trumans Water,
Howard Jones,
Soft Cell,
Wings,
Slave,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Bauhaus,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.