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 France 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Searchers to the jazz 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smoke,
Inner City,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joey Negro,
Barrington Levy,
Babytalk,
Crime,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
The Fugs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
The United States of America,
June Days,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalann,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Raincoats,
Von Mondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
Section 25,
Wally Richardson,
Main Source,
Ludus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Whodini,
Tomorrow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tom Boy,
the Sonics,
The Victims,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
Scott Walker,
Mark Hollis,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Moss Icon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
The Velvet Underground,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang of Four,
Boogie Down Productions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.