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 Tajikistan and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Grass Roots to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
The Names,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Standells,
Lou Christie,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Move,
Fear,
Aswad,
The Star Department,
Khruangbin,
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pole,
Kenny Larkin,
Alice Coltrane,
Radiohead,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MDC,
Tom Boy,
Faraquet,
The Human League,
Gong,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T. Rex,
The Five Americans,
David McCallum,
Funky Four + One,
Monks,
Deepchord,
Sun City Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Zero Boys,
The Associates,
Altered Images,
Hasil Adkins,
Supertramp,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
Groovy Waters,
Boredoms,
Main Source,
The Busters,
Howard Jones,
Joyce Sims,
The Real Kids,
Stiv Bators,
The Mummies,
Roxy Music,
Kerri Chandler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.