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 Slovenia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
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 oboe 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 Infiniti to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lower 48,
Crime,
John Foxx,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amazonics,
Nas,
The Fuzztones,
Deepchord,
Brothers Johnson,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agitation Free,
The Durutti Column,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rapeman,
Wings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Circle Jerks,
Mantronix,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Talk Talk,
Alphaville,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
The Music Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Adolescents,
The Leaves,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
World's Most,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Howard Jones,
John Holt,
The Standells,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.