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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Grauzone to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Pole,
Youth Brigade,
The Real Kids,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
Carl Craig,
Deadbeat,
Mad Mike,
The Zeros,
Popol Vuh,
The Monochrome Set,
Charles Mingus,
Skriet,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
La Düsseldorf,
The Smiths,
Roger Hodgson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cal Tjader,
The Trojans,
Sugar Minott,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Mandrill,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Faust,
Swell Maps,
Dead Boys,
Pylon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wally Richardson,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mojo Men,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Don Cherry,
Stetsasonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Q65,
Warsaw,
Quantec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.