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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the grime 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Fluxion,
Rakim,
Section 25,
Adolescents,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
Michelle Simonal,
The Buckinghams,
Barbara Tucker,
Amazonics,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fugs,
Zapp,
Grey Daturas,
John Foxx,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Clear Light,
Whodini,
Unwound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crime,
The Divine Comedy,
Audionom,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Slave,
Bobby Womack,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Severed Heads,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Tom Boy,
Delta 5,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Porter Ricks,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.