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 Saudi Arabia and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Busters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Con Funk Shun,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ten City,
Bobby Sherman,
The Evens,
Soul II Soul,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skaos,
Ohio Players,
Moss Icon,
Fear,
Trumans Water,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Age Steppers,
Youth Brigade,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Scientists,
One Last Wish,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Style,
Godley & Creme,
The Moody Blues,
Pierre Henry,
The Red Krayola,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
The Names,
Eli Mardock,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sandy B,
The J.B.'s,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Amon Düül,
the Association,
Oblivians,
Johnny Osbourne,
Audionom,
Model 500,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.