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 Liechtenstein and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Blake Baxter to the punk 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
The Buckinghams,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Skarface,
Camberwell Now,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
FM Einheit,
The Neon Judgement,
Liliput,
Brass Construction,
the Germs,
Barrington Levy,
The Cramps,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Crime,
Vainqueur,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Niagra,
Scrapy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Ponytail,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Nils Olav,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echospace,
cv313,
The Wake,
The J.B.'s,
Oneida,
The Victims,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kayak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Isaac Hayes,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
the Human League,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Red Krayola,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul II Soul,
The Zeros,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultravox,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
Marine Girls,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.