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 Honduras and from London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sisters of Mercy to the rap 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Ituana,
Terry Callier,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wire,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pop Group,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aural Exciters,
John Cale,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Subhumans,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cymande,
Can,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Camouflage,
Arcadia,
Shoche,
Funkadelic,
Average White Band,
Groovy Waters,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Graham Central Station,
Stetsasonic,
Sister Nancy,
Theoretical Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
Japan,
Peter & Gordon,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
The Move,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
The Knickerbockers,
The Young Rascals,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.