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 Brazil and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
John Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Barry Ungar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Divine Comedy,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
KRS-One,
The Birthday Party,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
X-Ray Spex,
Joey Negro,
Man Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
Marine Girls,
JFA,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Smooth,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Teasers,
Dead Boys,
Darondo,
Leonard Cohen,
Marmalade,
Soft Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oblivians,
Hashim,
Livin' Joy,
Gichy Dan,
Sun City Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
Sun Ra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Black Dice,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.