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 Honduras and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultravox to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yusef Lateef,
June of 44,
Half Japanese,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Joy Division,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rotary Connection,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minutemen,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
the Sonics,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Icehouse,
Clear Light,
Graham Central Station,
The Doors,
Alison Limerick,
Unrelated Segments,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visage,
R.M.O.,
Tomorrow,
MC5,
The Red Krayola,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Starr,
Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
CMW,
FM Einheit,
Skriet,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blackbyrds,
The Zeros,
Crime,
the Germs,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
Lightning Bolt,
The Kinks,
The Slits,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.