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 Rwanda and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Red Krayola,
the Bar-Kays,
Accadde A,
Magma,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
Ice-T,
Theoretical Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Hoover,
Moby Grape,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Alison Limerick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Deadbeat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
X-101,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
Marvin Gaye,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Womack,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Divine Comedy,
Main Source,
Sonny Sharrock,
Underground Resistance,
Nirvana,
Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
The Grass Roots,
Erykah Badu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Banda Bassotti,
Fear,
The Stooges,
Section 25,
X-Ray Spex,
Lakeside,
Brand Nubian,
Michelle Simonal,
Silicon Teens,
Porter Ricks,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.