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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Can to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Buzzcocks,
The Techniques,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Cell,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dead C,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Minutemen,
Symarip,
Roxy Music,
Inner City,
Cameo,
Pantytec,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
Fugazi,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Mills,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
One Last Wish,
Chris Corsano,
Marvin Gaye,
Ten City,
The Cure,
Bobbi Humphrey,
kango's stein massive,
The Gories,
Bobby Sherman,
Minnie Riperton,
Eli Mardock,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deakin,
Amon Düül II,
The Offenders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
CMW,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.