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 Andorra and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Public Enemy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
Fatback Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Janne Schatter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Cale,
Max Romeo,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
The Trojans,
Junior Murvin,
Rites of Spring,
CMW,
Hoover,
The Smoke,
Blancmange,
Whodini,
Peter & Gordon,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Minnie Riperton,
Y Pants,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
The Smiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
H. Thieme,
The Count Five,
The Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Accadde A,
Arthur Verocai,
D'Angelo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eli Mardock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker,
Skriet,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
Mary Jane Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Mills,
Pagans,
Loose Ends,
Brick,
The Velvet Underground,
KRS-One,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül,
Funkadelic,
K-Klass,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glenn Branca,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.