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 Uganda and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
10cc,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Smog,
Terry Callier,
Wings,
Chrome,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers,
Unwound,
Infiniti,
L. Decosne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Archie Shepp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
EPMD,
Sparks,
The Monks,
Sister Nancy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
The Toasters,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
PIL,
Derrick Morgan,
ABBA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slave,
Surgeon,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Symarip,
Drive Like Jehu,
New Age Steppers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echospace,
Gregory Isaacs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Zapp,
Brick,
Panda Bear,
Jacques Brel,
Gong,
Rapeman,
Roxy Music,
The Human League,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
cv313,
Godley & Creme,
Nas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crooked Eye,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Boredoms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-101,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.