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 Niger and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Hood to the dance 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Skarface,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
ABC,
Piero Umiliani,
Rufus Thomas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Whodini,
Deakin,
Can,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
Television,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül,
Funkadelic,
Sparks,
Silicon Teens,
Freddie Wadling,
Nirvana,
Make Up,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Intrusion,
The Residents,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
a-ha,
Popol Vuh,
The Cowsills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Glenn Branca,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
Public Enemy,
The New Christs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bad Manners,
Janne Schatter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.