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 Switzerland and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sister Nancy to the electroclash 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Suicide,
AZ,
Joe Finger,
the Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül II,
Pierre Henry,
Swans,
X-102,
Bobby Sherman,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
Spandau Ballet,
Neil Young,
PIL,
Depeche Mode,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Brothers Johnson,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
ABC,
Brass Construction,
Blake Baxter,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vainqueur,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Grass Roots,
Yazoo,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
The United States of America,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Victims,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.