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 Grenada and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DNA to the crunk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
Jacques Brel,
Radiohead,
Liliput,
Jawbox,
the Swans,
The Divine Comedy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
10cc,
Ornette Coleman,
Brass Construction,
Skaos,
Lungfish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Niagra,
U.S. Maple,
Pere Ubu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Au Pairs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Shoche,
Q65,
Fugazi,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Morten Harket,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
KRS-One,
X-Ray Spex,
Porter Ricks,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scott Walker,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Buzzcocks,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donald Byrd,
Kurtis Blow,
OOIOO,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.