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 Luxembourg and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Boz Scaggs to the jazz 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
David Bowie,
Model 500,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Slave,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terry Callier,
New York Dolls,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
The Angels of Light,
John Lydon,
Deakin,
Section 25,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Kinks,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
The Smoke,
Public Enemy,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
Joensuu 1685,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
Khruangbin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
This Heat,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
LL Cool J,
One Last Wish,
Von Mondo,
Half Japanese,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Count Five,
The Red Krayola,
Pere Ubu,
Camouflage,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Faust,
Pylon,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.