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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Slick Rick to the dance 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
CMW,
John Lydon,
Joy Division,
Public Enemy,
The Dirtbombs,
La Düsseldorf,
the Bar-Kays,
Magazine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Second Layer,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick May,
These Immortal Souls,
The Five Americans,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Erykah Badu,
Michelle Simonal,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Lou Reed,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Japan,
Black Bananas,
The Residents,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Davy DMX,
Pole,
Eurythmics,
Vladislav Delay,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
In Retrospect,
Arab on Radar,
Cymande,
Livin' Joy,
Ice-T,
The Neon Judgement,
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Toni Rubio,
Skarface,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
Marvin Gaye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wasted Youth,
UT,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Black Sheep,
Connie Case,
the Soft Cell,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.