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 Panama and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Delon & Dalcan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Nas,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Names,
John Foxx,
Bobby Sherman,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Offenders,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
The Remains,
Man Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skaos,
Faust,
Urselle,
The Raincoats,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Eric Copeland,
ABC,
Groovy Waters,
Depeche Mode,
The Seeds,
The Evens,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Outsiders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wasted Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Matthew Halsall,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano,
Delta 5,
June of 44,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Audionom,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Chrome,
Au Pairs,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Hoover,
Brick,
Wally Richardson,
the Germs,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
Susan Cadogan,
the Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
Quadrant,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.