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 Jakarta.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Erasure to the techno 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers,
The Music Machine,
Terry Callier,
Soul II Soul,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
The Human League,
John Cale,
the Sonics,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nik Kershaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Wyatt,
Jacques Brel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang of Four,
The Move,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Alison Limerick,
AZ,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Agent Orange,
DNA,
Radiohead,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Sound Behaviour,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Tubeway Army,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
Junior Murvin,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Near,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Scientists,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.