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 Nauru and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
F. McDonald,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Parrish,
Q65,
The Offenders,
The Motions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul II Soul,
the Bar-Kays,
FM Einheit,
Chrome,
Parry Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Roy Ayers,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
Yaz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Eve St. Jones,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Nas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gladiators,
Alison Limerick,
Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Niagra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
U.S. Maple,
Siglo XX,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
Livin' Joy,
EPMD,
Derrick May,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.