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 France and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ohio Players to the funk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
The Moody Blues,
Henry Cow,
The Toasters,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Massinfluence,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Unrelated Segments,
June of 44,
Moss Icon,
R.M.O.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Surgeon,
cv313,
The Kinks,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Reuben Wilson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Sällskapet,
Lyres,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Real Kids,
The New Christs,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Residents,
Dawn Penn,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Smoke,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Howard Jones,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers,
Rapeman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.