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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lindisfarne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
Ituana,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
Spandau Ballet,
Barbara Tucker,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Nation of Ulysses,
World's Most,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Erykah Badu,
The Fall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Stetsasonic,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
Rekid,
Leonard Cohen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scratch Acid,
Sister Nancy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
Wasted Youth,
Lalann,
Crooked Eye,
Circle Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Average White Band,
Joe Smooth,
Max Romeo,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
The Pretty Things,
Delta 5,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.