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 Korea South and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharoah Sanders to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Sex Pistols,
Ash Ra Tempel,
B.T. Express,
Swans,
The Vogues,
Alice Coltrane,
Charles Mingus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Drexciya,
Skriet,
Peter & Gordon,
Carl Craig,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
Unrelated Segments,
Rotary Connection,
Pylon,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monochrome Set,
Mission of Burma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cymande,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Reagan Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
China Crisis,
The Pop Group,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boredoms,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
Bill Wells,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Robert Wyatt,
Magma,
Ponytail,
Barry Ungar,
David McCallum,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Sneak,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.