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 Maldives and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the grime 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter and Kerry,
Camberwell Now,
Mandrill,
Radio Birdman,
Yaz,
Arthur Verocai,
Anakelly,
Delta 5,
Japan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Barracudas,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Siglo XX,
The Busters,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gun Club,
10cc,
Ornette Coleman,
June of 44,
This Heat,
Stetsasonic,
Guru Guru,
Jacob Miller,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dual Sessions,
Tubeway Army,
The Walker Brothers,
Intrusion,
The Associates,
The Motions,
David McCallum,
Warren Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius,
Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Blossom Toes,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Scion,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
The Standells,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barrington Levy,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
The Flesh Eaters,
T. Rex,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.