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 Estonia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cure to the funk 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Guru Guru,
Skarface,
Carl Craig,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
Das Ding,
Absolute Body Control,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sonic Youth,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Pus,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gladiators,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Siglo XX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Visage,
Aural Exciters,
Model 500,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Mad Mike,
Outsiders,
Pantytec,
AZ,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
Spandau Ballet,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monolake,
Robert Wyatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Agitation Free,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alison Limerick,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
Animal Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Seeds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Last Poets,
Moss Icon,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.