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 Algeria and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
Dawn Penn,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Rundgren,
Gabor Szabo,
Eve St. Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
the Human League,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
The Litter,
Can,
Colin Newman,
The Angels of Light,
The Vogues,
Simply Red,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Fluxion,
Franke,
The Gories,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris & Cosey,
48th St. Collective,
Quando Quango,
AZ,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
The Knickerbockers,
Shuggie Otis,
Rekid,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Golliwogs,
Rosa Yemen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fugazi,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scrapy,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
China Crisis,
Cymande,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Derrick Morgan,
The Young Rascals,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.