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 Luxembourg and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 Gang Starr to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Andrew Hill,
The Offenders,
the Human League,
Crime,
Suicide,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Reagan Youth,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Erasure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
The Associates,
The Move,
Maleditus Sound,
Kayak,
Johnny Clarke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
Youth Brigade,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deakin,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
Thee Headcoats,
Cheater Slicks,
Talk Talk,
The Fortunes,
Moss Icon,
Boredoms,
Skriet,
Steve Hackett,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Absolute Body Control,
Panda Bear,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Toasters,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Leonard Cohen,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Christie,
Altered Images,
Sister Nancy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythm & Sound,
Schoolly D,
Visage,
New Order,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.