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 Grenada and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Tubeway Army to the crunk 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Blues Magoos,
Marvin Gaye,
Tubeway Army,
the Normal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tres Demented,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
Anakelly,
Godley & Creme,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Von Mondo,
Wings,
Depeche Mode,
Eve St. Jones,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Iggy Pop,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ronan,
World's Most,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
A Certain Ratio,
Rod Modell,
Sound Behaviour,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brand Nubian,
Black Bananas,
AZ,
Echospace,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Leonard Cohen,
Interpol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cosmic Jokers,
One Last Wish,
Lower 48,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.