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 Burundi and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
The Dead C,
Drexciya,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Funky Four + One,
Inner City,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fad Gadget,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Interpol,
The Gun Club,
The Dirtbombs,
The Barracudas,
Yusef Lateef,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Nick Fraelich,
One Last Wish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sällskapet,
Harry Pussy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skriet,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Hashim,
ABBA,
Glenn Branca,
Crime,
Sex Pistols,
Deadbeat,
Nik Kershaw,
Absolute Body Control,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lightning Bolt,
Dark Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
T. Rex,
Television Personalities,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smiths,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.