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 Bolivia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Jacob Miller,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
China Crisis,
Drexciya,
Oneida,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Agitation Free,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mission of Burma,
Malaria!,
Rekid,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
Procol Harum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Germs,
The Doors,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stetsasonic,
B.T. Express,
Fela Kuti,
Television Personalities,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick May,
Kaleidoscope,
Symarip,
Animal Collective,
John Coltrane,
Section 25,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
The Motions,
Intrusion,
Graham Central Station,
Neil Young,
L. Decosne,
Roger Hodgson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hot Snakes,
The Pretty Things,
New Age Steppers,
Cymande,
Traffic Nightmare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
DJ Sneak,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.