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 Estonia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 Dawn Penn to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Howard Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gong,
The Dead C,
Kaleidoscope,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
The Fall,
Duran Duran,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marvin Gaye,
A Certain Ratio,
Skarface,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Coltrane,
Magazine,
DJ Sneak,
Black Pus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wings,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
Livin' Joy,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
The Trojans,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Faraquet,
Unwound,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu,
The Birthday Party,
Jacob Miller,
Silicon Teens,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scientists,
a-ha,
Average White Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
June of 44,
Robert Hood,
The Offenders,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alison Limerick,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.