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 Malaysia and from London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Make Up,
Sight & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grauzone,
The Fortunes,
Camberwell Now,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moody Blues,
KRS-One,
Roger Hodgson,
Scion,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Lydon,
Alton Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Isaac Hayes,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Hill,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Negative Approach,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang On A Can,
Peter & Gordon,
Graham Central Station,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt,
X-101,
Agitation Free,
Unwound,
Wings,
Steve Hackett,
Peter and Kerry,
Nick Fraelich,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh,
Godley & Creme,
Vainqueur,
Boredoms,
The Cramps,
Kaleidoscope,
The Litter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
10cc,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.