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 Iraq and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Bobby Byrd to the rap 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Human League,
Tubeway Army,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Silicon Teens,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Audionom,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lungfish,
DJ Style,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Al Stewart,
the Bar-Kays,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Altered Images,
F. McDonald,
Joe Smooth,
Monolake,
Joyce Sims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Index,
Technova,
Skriet,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül II,
Tommy Roe,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
Derrick Morgan,
Model 500,
Sound Behaviour,
the Swans,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare,
Stiv Bators,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Darondo,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deepchord,
Albert Ayler,
Sex Pistols,
LL Cool J,
Freddie Wadling,
Make Up,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.