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 Montenegro and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 The Doobie Brothers to the dance 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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Tubeway Army,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shoche,
Camouflage,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gun Club,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
Livin' Joy,
The Motions,
The Sonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Minnie Riperton,
Marc Almond,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Dolphy,
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
Stiv Bators,
The Smiths,
Alice Coltrane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Infiniti,
The Young Rascals,
The Pretty Things,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sandy B,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore,
Barrington Levy,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Michelle Simonal,
The Beau Brummels,
Delta 5,
Negative Approach,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed,
Funky Four + One,
Skaos,
Audionom,
Japan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gichy Dan,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.