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 Oman and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Velvet Underground to the funk 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Golliwogs,
Flash Fearless,
The Searchers,
Skriet,
Skaos,
Basic Channel,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings,
Althea and Donna,
Jandek,
The Last Poets,
The Standells,
Faust,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Section 25,
ABC,
Swans,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
Tom Boy,
Marvin Gaye,
Fugazi,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter and Kerry,
Ice-T,
Crash Course in Science,
Brand Nubian,
The Mojo Men,
Agitation Free,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Chrome,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
The Toasters,
Royal Trux,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
Franke,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
Josef K,
Lou Reed,
Organ,
Accadde A,
Neu!,
Pagans,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.