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 Sri Lanka and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Depeche Mode 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Make Up,
Popol Vuh,
Alphaville,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
FM Einheit,
The Neon Judgement,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Altered Images,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Bill Near,
Chrome,
The Offenders,
The Vogues,
The Monochrome Set,
Vainqueur,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Marmalade,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tomorrow,
Pylon,
Bush Tetras,
Alton Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Rufus Thomas,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
New Order,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed,
Nick Fraelich,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Tommy Roe,
Faust,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Joyce Sims,
New York Dolls,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ludus,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.