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 Denmark and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Lower 48,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
Alphaville,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
Mo-Dettes,
The Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Human League,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed,
Motorama,
Wire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Al Stewart,
Los Fastidios,
E-Dancer,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Sister Nancy,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Alison Limerick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shoche,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythm & Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
ABC,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soft Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
China Crisis,
The Cowsills,
Todd Terry,
Carl Craig,
Throbbing Gristle,
One Last Wish,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.