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 Lesotho and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gladiators to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Warren Ellis,
Henry Cow,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James White and The Blacks,
Sarah Menescal,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
Porter Ricks,
The Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The American Breed,
Procol Harum,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
PIL,
Cybotron,
CMW,
Bill Near,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Ponytail,
Stereo Dub,
Cheater Slicks,
Carl Craig,
Wings,
Chris Corsano,
Susan Cadogan,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
cv313,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
Trumans Water,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Names,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Albert Ayler,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
Suburban Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
Scientists,
The Mummies,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.