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 Latvia and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Echospace to the grime 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Bob Dylan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Zero Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
Groovy Waters,
Black Moon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cluster,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dirtbombs,
Basic Channel,
Judy Mowatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Ultra Naté,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
The Fuzztones,
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jawbox,
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
Lalann,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shoche,
The Durutti Column,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
JFA,
Junior Murvin,
Rites of Spring,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
OOIOO,
Ituana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Star Department,
Clear Light,
Ludus,
Lou Reed,
Livin' Joy,
Inner City,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.