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 Trinidad & Tobago 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet 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 Radio Birdman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Motorama,
The Doobie Brothers,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Mars,
Altered Images,
Main Source,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ten City,
Wire,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Erykah Badu,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Sonics,
Moss Icon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sex Pistols,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Stooges,
MDC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Yaz,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Bourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
The Zeros,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Country Teasers,
The Blackbyrds,
Funky Four + One,
Soft Machine,
Model 500,
Desert Stars,
The Count Five,
The Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Can,
The Gories,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Carl Craig,
Simply Red,
Animal Collective,
Tears for Fears,
Au Pairs,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.