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 Mongolia and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Anakelly to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
UT,
John Lydon,
Kaleidoscope,
Lindisfarne,
Peter and Kerry,
Easy Going,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Terry Callier,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moody Blues,
Organ,
Janne Schatter,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
Idris Muhammad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moss Icon,
Deepchord,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mojo Men,
Clear Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
Boz Scaggs,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camouflage,
Derrick May,
Judy Mowatt,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Junior Murvin,
The Fortunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.