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 Djibouti 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scion,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
Wings,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
Lucky Dragons,
Simply Red,
ABBA,
Maurizio,
Arab on Radar,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hardrive,
Robert Hood,
The Raincoats,
Talk Talk,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pere Ubu,
The Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Carl Craig,
The Slits,
Drive Like Jehu,
Supertramp,
10cc,
F. McDonald,
Robert Wyatt,
Kurtis Blow,
Unrelated Segments,
E-Dancer,
The Zeros,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Moon,
The Techniques,
Chris Corsano,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thompson Twins,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
Bush Tetras,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
Excepter,
One Last Wish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
Monks,
Fad Gadget,
These Immortal Souls,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Spandau Ballet,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.