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 St Lucia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Audionom,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Motions,
Slick Rick,
Pulsallama,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oblivians,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-102,
The Pop Group,
Pantytec,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
The Monochrome Set,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Max Romeo,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Groovy Waters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Terry,
Y Pants,
JFA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Judy Mowatt,
Tres Demented,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
Make Up,
Donald Byrd,
Rakim,
Mandrill,
the Slits,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
Henry Cow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
The Star Department,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Howard Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
The Velvet Underground,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
The Mummies,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
David McCallum,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.