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 Lille.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Bill Wells to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
The Pretty Things,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Jacob Miller,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Byron Stingily,
One Last Wish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Holt,
Hashim,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
the Human League,
China Crisis,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
Nick Fraelich,
Dawn Penn,
Siglo XX,
Main Source,
Audionom,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
New Order,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
Warren Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
FM Einheit,
John Cale,
Supertramp,
Bobby Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker,
The Residents,
Underground Resistance,
Connie Case,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gap Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Buckinghams,
Alton Ellis,
Excepter,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.