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 Italy and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kaleidoscope to the techno 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
Max Romeo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Kinks,
The Blackbyrds,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eurythmics,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Ten City,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Spoonie Gee,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Techniques,
The Beau Brummels,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slick Rick,
Cecil Taylor,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David McCallum,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Green,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Reagan Youth,
The Black Dice,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Human League,
LL Cool J,
Marvin Gaye,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Red Krayola,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angry Samoans,
Pere Ubu,
B.T. Express,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Connie Case,
Fela Kuti,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
Don Cherry,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.