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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 Drexciya to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Todd Rundgren,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Average White Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
The Black Dice,
Grandmaster Flash,
Niagra,
Malaria!,
Sun City Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
cv313,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
The Busters,
Can,
Urselle,
Panda Bear,
Swell Maps,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
Groovy Waters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultravox,
Donny Hathaway,
The Trojans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kenny Larkin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sight & Sound,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
The Grass Roots,
Pylon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Wells,
Excepter,
the Slits,
China Crisis,
Robert Hood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
Graham Central Station,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.