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 Zimbabwe and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 The Barracudas to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
New York Dolls,
Scrapy,
Erasure,
Gang Starr,
Mo-Dettes,
Sun Ra,
Dark Day,
Nico,
Yusef Lateef,
Siglo XX,
The Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Hasil Adkins,
Toni Rubio,
Lucky Dragons,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
MC5,
Steve Hackett,
The Cramps,
Amazonics,
The Remains,
Mars,
Magma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Todd Terry,
Surgeon,
Babytalk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Half Japanese,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arthur Verocai,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funky Four + One,
Porter Ricks,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
Quadrant,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Outsiders,
Tears for Fears,
Radiohead,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.