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 Benin and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fear to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
Porter Ricks,
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Carl Craig,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Ossler,
Hashim,
Skarface,
New Age Steppers,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Schoolly D,
Sexual Harrassment,
Franke,
Moebius,
The Martian,
X-102,
Jeff Lynne,
Von Mondo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
The Associates,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Massinfluence,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sugar Minott,
Cal Tjader,
John Lydon,
Eden Ahbez,
Warren Ellis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Womack,
Marine Girls,
The Golliwogs,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.