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 Egypt and from Portland.
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 Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 H. Thieme to the crunk 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Byrd,
LL Cool J,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bill Near,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
The Grass Roots,
Warren Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
Pantaleimon,
10cc,
Sandy B,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case,
Steve Hackett,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
The Sonics,
Flipper,
China Crisis,
Intrusion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang of Four,
Radio Birdman,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
The Durutti Column,
Joey Negro,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
The Fall,
Inner City,
Crime,
Gong,
The Stooges,
The Birthday Party,
Massinfluence,
Von Mondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alison Limerick,
Tubeway Army,
The Divine Comedy,
X-101,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
MDC,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.