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 Serbia and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rock 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funky Four + One,
Eric Copeland,
E-Dancer,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soft Machine,
Fear,
Supertramp,
Minnie Riperton,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
The Happenings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slick Rick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Wells,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
The Beau Brummels,
Bob Dylan,
Tom Boy,
The Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lalann,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Halsall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
a-ha,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Junior Murvin,
Skaos,
Sound Behaviour,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Popol Vuh,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Malaria!,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Delta 5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
World's Most,
Black Moon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
the Normal,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
The Smoke,
Dark Day,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.