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 Guinea-Bissau and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Byron Stingily to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Althea and Donna,
Joe Finger,
LL Cool J,
Y Pants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camouflage,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
Alice Coltrane,
The Black Dice,
Shoche,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Yazoo,
The Cramps,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Slave,
Skriet,
The Motions,
Urselle,
The Blues Magoos,
Kaleidoscope,
Q65,
Anakelly,
Television Personalities,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bauhaus,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monks,
AZ,
The Sonics,
Sparks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Schoolly D,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed,
The Moleskins,
Japan,
New York Dolls,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.