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 New Zealand and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Schoolly D,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camberwell Now,
Sight & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Matthew Bourne,
Sam Rivers,
Joey Negro,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deepchord,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dual Sessions,
Bush Tetras,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Quantec,
Sexual Harrassment,
Section 25,
Q65,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
Terry Callier,
Unrelated Segments,
Bob Dylan,
L. Decosne,
Don Cherry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Prince Buster,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
China Crisis,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Minutemen,
Cymande,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Ken Boothe,
Qualms,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Theoretical Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Happenings,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.