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 Bhutan 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Au Pairs to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Residents,
Albert Ayler,
Archie Shepp,
Soul II Soul,
Underground Resistance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
F. McDonald,
Qualms,
The Index,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Eden Ahbez,
Curtis Mayfield,
D'Angelo,
Erykah Badu,
Hardrive,
Roxy Music,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Techniques,
Urselle,
Nick Fraelich,
Aural Exciters,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Swans,
June Days,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Simply Red,
Dead Boys,
Mission of Burma,
The Standells,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Flock of Seagulls,
KRS-One,
Wally Richardson,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Modern Lovers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Victims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
Supertramp,
Glenn Branca,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.