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 South Sudan 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Angels of Light to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Bluetip,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Busters,
Robert Hood,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fire Engines,
The Grass Roots,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pussy Galore,
Fear,
Index,
F. McDonald,
Yusef Lateef,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gong,
China Crisis,
OOIOO,
Sight & Sound,
Suburban Knight,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Deepchord,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Smoke,
The Move,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
MC5,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reagan Youth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slits,
Ohio Players,
Amon Düül II,
Underground Resistance,
Radio Birdman,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
Altered Images,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.