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 Philippines and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Television,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Steve Hackett,
The Smiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Pus,
Cameo,
Half Japanese,
Barry Ungar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
Fluxion,
The Happenings,
Cymande,
June of 44,
Saccharine Trust,
Groovy Waters,
The Victims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lakeside,
The Cramps,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Soul II Soul,
Marine Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monks,
Nirvana,
The Mojo Men,
Animal Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
Minor Threat,
Hot Snakes,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gun Club,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
The Seeds,
The Birthday Party,
The Tremeloes,
Interpol,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Con Funk Shun,
The Young Rascals,
Maurizio,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.