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 Cuba and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Warsaw,
the Sonics,
The Busters,
Joyce Sims,
Junior Murvin,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Görl,
Minor Threat,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
Lalann,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ten City,
Subhumans,
Agent Orange,
Pere Ubu,
Eurythmics,
The Velvet Underground,
Freddie Wadling,
Clear Light,
Faust,
DJ Sneak,
Brass Construction,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The J.B.'s,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Intrusion,
Flipper,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neu!,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deepchord,
Idris Muhammad,
Howard Jones,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
PIL,
Lindisfarne,
The Birthday Party,
Godley & Creme,
Tomorrow,
Mandrill,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pussy Galore,
The Saints,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.