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 Armenia and from Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Piero Umiliani to the electroclash 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Roxette,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick Morgan,
The Knickerbockers,
MC5,
Excepter,
David McCallum,
Blancmange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slackers,
Rites of Spring,
Siglo XX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wasted Youth,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skarface,
The Fall,
June Days,
Ken Boothe,
Angry Samoans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blues Magoos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Leaves,
Jacques Brel,
Neu!,
Gang Green,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Busters,
The Martian,
Inner City,
the Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Au Pairs,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MDC,
Scrapy,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
Isaac Hayes,
The Golliwogs,
Bronski Beat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quadrant,
Quando Quango,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonic Youth,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.