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 Cyprus and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Model 500 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
Don Cherry,
Sam Rivers,
The Pop Group,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hot Snakes,
The Slackers,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Spoonie Gee,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amazonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
Scrapy,
Japan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cheater Slicks,
Massinfluence,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tommy Roe,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terry Callier,
Marc Almond,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Toni Rubio,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.