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 Niger and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Deadbeat to the grunge 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Alarm Clocks,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Metal Thangz,
Smog,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Grass Roots,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood,
Slave,
Shuggie Otis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Starr,
Kayak,
Alton Ellis,
X-101,
Organ,
Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
John Lydon,
PIL,
Young Marble Giants,
Deepchord,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
The Evens,
Surgeon,
the Normal,
Ohio Players,
Ronnie Foster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Human League,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Quadrant,
Alice Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
Depeche Mode,
FM Einheit,
Ludus,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.