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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
Whodini,
Fatback Band,
The Vogues,
The Victims,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
Lower 48,
Isaac Hayes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Goldenarms,
China Crisis,
Underground Resistance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maleditus Sound,
Joy Division,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Glambeats Corp.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun City Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Dolphy,
Ludus,
Blossom Toes,
Gong,
Bill Near,
The Saints,
Harry Pussy,
Icehouse,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
In Retrospect,
Aural Exciters,
Fluxion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Average White Band,
Archie Shepp,
Sparks,
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABC,
Soulsonic Force,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.