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 Brazil and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Sonic Youth to the disco 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Pole,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Lungfish,
Organ,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
James White and The Blacks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jacob Miller,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slave,
Rosa Yemen,
Lower 48,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
The Golliwogs,
The Cure,
Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
The Evens,
The Saints,
Boredoms,
Bronski Beat,
Traffic Nightmare,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Halsall,
EPMD,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
Colin Newman,
Marine Girls,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Second Layer,
Cheater Slicks,
Reuben Wilson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delta 5,
Dawn Penn,
Rapeman,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
The Litter,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
Wings,
Sparks,
Soft Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pagans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.