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 Sweden and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Arthur Verocai to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Jacques Brel,
The Dirtbombs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monochrome Set,
The Divine Comedy,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Roxette,
FM Einheit,
The Raincoats,
The United States of America,
Idris Muhammad,
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roger Hodgson,
Subhumans,
Jerry's Kids,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler,
Little Man,
H. Thieme,
Crash Course in Science,
Visage,
Jeff Mills,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arthur Verocai,
Bronski Beat,
Dennis Brown,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül II,
Derrick Morgan,
The Electric Prunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Black Dice,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slackers,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
Heaven 17,
Suicide,
Can,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Slave,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric Dolphy,
Eden Ahbez,
the Human League,
X-102,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Buckinghams,
Au Pairs,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.