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 Tajikistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Real Kids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Henry Cow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
Aloha Tigers,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
The New Christs,
Joe Finger,
Soulsonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
LL Cool J,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Divine Comedy,
kango's stein massive,
Camberwell Now,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sound,
Organ,
Bronski Beat,
The Techniques,
Fad Gadget,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Normal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
Thee Headcoats,
Surgeon,
Agent Orange,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Grandmaster Flash,
Goldenarms,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Christie,
The Moody Blues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
The Move,
Youth Brigade,
Judy Mowatt,
Tom Boy,
Vladislav Delay,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scrapy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.