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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 Roxette to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Bauhaus,
The Fugs,
Shuggie Otis,
X-101,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aswad,
John Lydon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pylon,
The Gladiators,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultravox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
The Red Krayola,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Marvin Gaye,
Y Pants,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skaos,
The Raincoats,
Laurel Aitken,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
Juan Atkins,
Graham Central Station,
The American Breed,
Iggy Pop,
Harmonia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
PIL,
Rod Modell,
Q65,
10cc,
The Stooges,
Rhythm & Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
kango's stein massive,
E-Dancer,
Roxy Music,
Radiopuhelimet,
Procol Harum,
Roxette,
Arcadia,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.