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 Tuvalu and from Lille.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Guru Guru to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Barbara Tucker,
Marmalade,
Black Moon,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
Parry Music,
Todd Rundgren,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
The Names,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
Inner City,
Spoonie Gee,
Arthur Verocai,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
Lucky Dragons,
Au Pairs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soft Cell,
Suicide,
Sparks,
Jerry's Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vladislav Delay,
The Residents,
Moebius,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stereo Dub,
Sister Nancy,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
Sixth Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ken Boothe,
Yazoo,
The Dirtbombs,
Dead Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Subhumans,
Kenny Larkin,
Simply Red,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Steve Hackett,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.