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 Senegal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 Danielle Patucci to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Babytalk,
Fluxion,
Sällskapet,
X-Ray Spex,
New Order,
The Doors,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cameo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Delta 5,
Robert Hood,
T. Rex,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Womack,
Jerry's Kids,
the Germs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
World's Most,
Sam Rivers,
Clear Light,
Quadrant,
Jawbox,
Visage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Kenny Larkin,
Prince Buster,
Crooked Eye,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Halsall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Toni Rubio,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Vogues,
Pole,
The Wake,
Deepchord,
Faust,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Suburban Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
June of 44,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.