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 Oman and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 The Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s 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 Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
The Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tim Buckley,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scott Walker,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Au Pairs,
Davy DMX,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
JFA,
Pole,
Crime,
Ituana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dave Gahan,
Flipper,
10cc,
Hardrive,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Leaves,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama,
Jeff Mills,
Byron Stingily,
Barry Ungar,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Al Stewart,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ornette Coleman,
Television Personalities,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
The Raincoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Seeds,
the Soft Cell,
Neu!,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Mo-Dettes,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Bronski Beat,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.