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 Estonia and from Lille.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Human League to the grunge 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Los Fastidios,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
K-Klass,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
the Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Dark Day,
Technova,
Lower 48,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Martian,
Sister Nancy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
The New Christs,
Babytalk,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
Hasil Adkins,
June Days,
The Searchers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Theoretical Girls,
Amazonics,
Dave Gahan,
Franke,
Spandau Ballet,
The Saints,
the Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
David Bowie,
Ronan,
Cymande,
Nick Fraelich,
Bush Tetras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
Fugazi,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.