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 Syria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Ituana to the grime 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The New Christs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gap Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
New York Dolls,
Slick Rick,
Excepter,
Don Cherry,
Can,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
10cc,
Skriet,
Jacob Miller,
Y Pants,
Radio Birdman,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
Fear,
Jacques Brel,
Davy DMX,
Buzzcocks,
Metal Thangz,
X-101,
Chris Corsano,
Tom Boy,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Ronnie Foster,
Cymande,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
U.S. Maple,
Lucky Dragons,
World's Most,
MDC,
Scrapy,
Lower 48,
The Mighty Diamonds,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
Altered Images,
The Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Dennis Brown,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.