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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Talk Talk to the funk 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monks,
Robert Görl,
Underground Resistance,
Lakeside,
The Count Five,
Goldenarms,
Alison Limerick,
The American Breed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Searchers,
Carl Craig,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oneida,
Eddi Front,
Lalann,
Minutemen,
the Swans,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smiths,
Gong,
Barrington Levy,
Intrusion,
Arcadia,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes,
Marmalade,
Darondo,
Albert Ayler,
Mandrill,
Toni Rubio,
Black Moon,
Essential Logic,
Thompson Twins,
The Young Rascals,
Duran Duran,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.