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 Austria and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Funky Four + One to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Technova,
Suicide,
The Smiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Mills,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
Junior Murvin,
Gabor Szabo,
Blossom Toes,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
Sixth Finger,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultra Naté,
10cc,
New York Dolls,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monochrome Set,
The Grass Roots,
Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
The Mummies,
Yusef Lateef,
Japan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Underground Resistance,
Skriet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bluetip,
Lalann,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sonics,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Colin Newman,
Magazine,
Masters at Work,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Infiniti,
Trumans Water,
Delta 5,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultravox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Don Cherry,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.