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 Iceland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Bang On A Can to the grime 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Sugar Minott,
Soul Sonic Force,
Susan Cadogan,
The Walker Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gun Club,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Toasters,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Bar-Kays,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun City Girls,
Camouflage,
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Count Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
Slave,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Angels of Light,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Derrick May,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Zeros,
Eurythmics,
Lungfish,
ABBA,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
The Kinks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Fugazi,
X-101,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians,
The Invisible,
Flash Fearless,
Aloha Tigers,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.