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 Lebanon and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
This Heat,
The Trojans,
Deakin,
Tommy Roe,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Martian,
Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Soulsonic Force,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Zapp,
Malaria!,
David McCallum,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Porter Ricks,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Zeros,
Brick,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Pantytec,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joy Division,
Minor Threat,
Minnie Riperton,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Sällskapet,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
Shuggie Otis,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.