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 Bolivia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
Little Man,
Morten Harket,
The Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Nik Kershaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
Glambeats Corp.,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Mission of Burma,
Stiv Bators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Monks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Pus,
The Mummies,
Robert Hood,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fear,
The Knickerbockers,
The Golliwogs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joey Negro,
The Litter,
Amon Düül II,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
Nirvana,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
Ornette Coleman,
Blancmange,
Moss Icon,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
DNA,
The Residents,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
Lightning Bolt,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.