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 Lesotho and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
X-102,
Fear,
Bronski Beat,
Underground Resistance,
Hardrive,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fugazi,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Beau Brummels,
The Red Krayola,
Schoolly D,
The Dave Clark Five,
Leonard Cohen,
The Happenings,
Al Stewart,
Minny Pops,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Gabor Szabo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Teasers,
Hot Snakes,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Gong,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Lynne,
MC5,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ponytail,
Arthur Verocai,
Cheater Slicks,
Kas Product,
The Angels of Light,
Little Man,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
B.T. Express,
The Zeros,
Theoretical Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
OOIOO,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
Harpers Bizarre,
AZ,
the Swans,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.