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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 June of 44 to the grunge 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
The Seeds,
Josef K,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
Roxette,
Kerrie Biddell,
Smog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
The Skatalites,
David McCallum,
Easy Going,
Lower 48,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Litter,
Sugar Minott,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Cymande,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Icehouse,
The Dead C,
Marvin Gaye,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Al Stewart,
the Swans,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
Gregory Isaacs,
Clear Light,
Robert Görl,
Cheater Slicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dual Sessions,
Prince Buster,
Eric Dolphy,
Michelle Simonal,
Donald Byrd,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
The Count Five,
Lakeside,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy,
The Associates,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.