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 Kiribati and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chris Corsano to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Grass Roots,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABBA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
8 Eyed Spy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
kango's stein massive,
Pulsallama,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
Can,
The Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
David Axelrod,
Kurtis Blow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Agent Orange,
Ronan,
Faraquet,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Birthday Party,
Niagra,
John Cale,
F. McDonald,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
La Düsseldorf,
Second Layer,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats,
Steve Hackett,
The Black Dice,
Nick Fraelich,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.