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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Leonard Cohen to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Aural Exciters,
Rosa Yemen,
The New Christs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skriet,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
The Dirtbombs,
Flipper,
Tom Boy,
Joey Negro,
Mission of Burma,
Intrusion,
Eve St. Jones,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Organ,
The Slackers,
The Star Department,
The Martian,
The Saints,
John Foxx,
Rekid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scrapy,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Franke,
Isaac Hayes,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Joe Finger,
The Alarm Clocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lower 48,
Subhumans,
Goldenarms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nik Kershaw,
June of 44,
The Music Machine,
Yazoo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.