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 Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Holger Czukay 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 Magazine to the funk 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
Alphaville,
Spoonie Gee,
the Swans,
Robert Görl,
Bauhaus,
Anakelly,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Essential Logic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Urselle,
Isaac Hayes,
Nico,
Rotary Connection,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
R.M.O.,
Donald Byrd,
Audionom,
Wolf Eyes,
T.S.O.L.,
Suburban Knight,
Bluetip,
Main Source,
Lucky Dragons,
Technova,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Moss Icon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
The Pretty Things,
The Stooges,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Barry Ungar,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Camberwell Now,
The Monks,
PIL,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tommy Roe,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.