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 Tajikistan and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 The Human League to the grunge 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
Brick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Yusef Lateef,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
The Angels of Light,
ABBA,
Black Sheep,
Chris & Cosey,
Grey Daturas,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monolake,
Sexual Harrassment,
T.S.O.L.,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Copeland,
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
Godley & Creme,
The Happenings,
the Germs,
Bill Near,
Hashim,
PIL,
the Soft Cell,
Kayak,
Whodini,
Alphaville,
Sonic Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zero Boys,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kas Product,
Tubeway Army,
The Selecter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
The Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.