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 San Marino and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Idris Muhammad to the crunk 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
Hasil Adkins,
Camberwell Now,
Neil Young,
Nils Olav,
a-ha,
The Slits,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Moon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
Aswad,
Cameo,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Janne Schatter,
Joy Division,
Goldenarms,
Tubeway Army,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
ABBA,
Fad Gadget,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
Max Romeo,
UT,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Durutti Column,
Boredoms,
Parry Music,
Kurtis Blow,
The Star Department,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
The Trojans,
Brass Construction,
The Fire Engines,
Sandy B,
Fatback Band,
EPMD,
Ronan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Donald Byrd,
Deakin,
Alison Limerick,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Görl,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.