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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Swans to the disco 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Selecter,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Aswad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
Severed Heads,
Circle Jerks,
Jacob Miller,
Ultravox,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Searchers,
Supertramp,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Babytalk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sight & Sound,
The Young Rascals,
FM Einheit,
Shoche,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
Second Layer,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
Aural Exciters,
Japan,
The Divine Comedy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kas Product,
Tubeway Army,
John Cale,
Thompson Twins,
Morten Harket,
Joyce Sims,
Audionom,
Scientists,
Index,
Model 500,
Steve Hackett,
Urselle,
The Wake,
Subhumans,
Fugazi,
Juan Atkins,
Procol Harum,
ABC,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crash Course in Science,
Easy Going,
June of 44,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Goldenarms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.