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 Qatar and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Unwound,
Grauzone,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cure,
Q65,
Magazine,
Alphaville,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
The Music Machine,
Little Man,
Frankie Knuckles,
Groovy Waters,
Charles Mingus,
Pantaleimon,
Outsiders,
The Gories,
Model 500,
Roy Ayers,
The Fall,
Barrington Levy,
Hoover,
Boredoms,
Qualms,
Godley & Creme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
Gang Starr,
Easy Going,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lower 48,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anakelly,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
Zapp,
Bill Wells,
Lou Christie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Halsall,
Hasil Adkins,
The Victims,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.