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 Netherlands 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Circle Jerks,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
Soulsonic Force,
Archie Shepp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New Age Steppers,
Moby Grape,
Ludus,
Wolf Eyes,
The Neon Judgement,
Fluxion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Letta Mbulu,
The Victims,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed,
Los Fastidios,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Davy DMX,
Max Romeo,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Theoretical Girls,
Babytalk,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
Khruangbin,
Main Source,
Harry Pussy,
The Motions,
Barbara Tucker,
The Moody Blues,
Wally Richardson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Michelle Simonal,
Joey Negro,
Lebanon Hanover,
Easy Going,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.