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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Steve Hackett,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
Crash Course in Science,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Loose Ends,
Frankie Knuckles,
Trumans Water,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
The Selecter,
Marvin Gaye,
Subhumans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Junior Murvin,
Eden Ahbez,
Young Marble Giants,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
John Coltrane,
Bill Near,
Television,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ken Boothe,
The Sound,
Anakelly,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Velvet Underground,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moody Blues,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Organ,
Desert Stars,
In Retrospect,
B.T. Express,
Brothers Johnson,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
La Düsseldorf,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Basic Channel,
Sonic Youth,
The Grass Roots,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nirvana,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.