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 Denmark and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Black Sheep to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Joy Division,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Roxette,
The Techniques,
Livin' Joy,
Scott Walker,
Alison Limerick,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
the Association,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
Cymande,
Fatback Band,
Juan Atkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Almond,
Aaron Thompson,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Second Layer,
Franke,
Zapp,
Tres Demented,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
LL Cool J,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Real Kids,
CMW,
New Order,
Graham Central Station,
The Slits,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scientists,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skaos,
Rites of Spring,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Smooth,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.