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 Kiribati and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Names,
The Buckinghams,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
B.T. Express,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Monks,
Dual Sessions,
E-Dancer,
Cal Tjader,
Flamin' Groovies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fire Engines,
Smog,
Rekid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
Bang On A Can,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The United States of America,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scion,
Magma,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Minutemen,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
Unwound,
Main Source,
the Association,
Quantec,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Delon & Dalcan,
Porter Ricks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Colin Newman,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.