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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 The United States of America to the dance 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
Hashim,
Dead Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Al Stewart,
The Saints,
Jimmy McGriff,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Zero Boys,
K-Klass,
The Leaves,
Y Pants,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
The Zeros,
The Doors,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bush Tetras,
Faraquet,
Reuben Wilson,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Almond,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeff Lynne,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bauhaus,
Crash Course in Science,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
David McCallum,
Spoonie Gee,
Marvin Gaye,
Mo-Dettes,
Blake Baxter,
Man Eating Sloth,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.