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 Comoros and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 Marvin Gaye to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
The Remains,
Los Fastidios,
the Normal,
ABBA,
Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai,
Stereo Dub,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Nico,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hashim,
The Angels of Light,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Erasure,
The Last Poets,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Nirvana,
Mark Hollis,
Prince Buster,
Graham Central Station,
Faust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Masters at Work,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
John Holt,
The Gun Club,
DNA,
Loose Ends,
Rod Modell,
The Sonics,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Techniques,
David Bowie,
Swell Maps,
Blancmange,
The Seeds,
Minutemen,
Faraquet,
Japan,
Unwound,
Deakin,
Talk Talk,
Cheater Slicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.