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 Chile and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Johnny Osbourne to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
the Germs,
Wings,
T.S.O.L.,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
The Martian,
Quantec,
Al Stewart,
Massinfluence,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pulsallama,
Davy DMX,
Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
The Doobie Brothers,
This Heat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare,
Neil Young,
Zapp,
Don Cherry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Busters,
Bauhaus,
ABC,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Pop Group,
Susan Cadogan,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
Minnie Riperton,
Mandrill,
The Moleskins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deepchord,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Clear Light,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.