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 Uruguay and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ten City to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
The Zeros,
The New Christs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Star Department,
Gichy Dan,
Masters at Work,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
The Pop Group,
Bad Manners,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
JFA,
the Swans,
cv313,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Fugazi,
Big Daddy Kane,
Letta Mbulu,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mr. Review,
T.S.O.L.,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
The Dead C,
Khruangbin,
Circle Jerks,
The Fall,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
The Music Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Shuggie Otis,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gun Club,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gladiators,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Almond,
Procol Harum,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
U.S. Maple,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
Slick Rick,
Funky Four + One,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.