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 Poland and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Agent Orange to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The Moody Blues,
Donny Hathaway,
Junior Murvin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donald Byrd,
David McCallum,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scientists,
the Human League,
Scott Walker,
Boz Scaggs,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Charles Mingus,
Arcadia,
Jeff Lynne,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Swans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
Patti Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Au Pairs,
The Victims,
Rosa Yemen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
The Golliwogs,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siglo XX,
The Birthday Party,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter and Kerry,
One Last Wish,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Country Teasers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
Erasure,
Schoolly D,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.