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 Belgium and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Mo-Dettes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Nils Olav,
Bush Tetras,
Scientists,
Skarface,
Brand Nubian,
Sun City Girls,
Ten City,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Albert Ayler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Slits,
Simply Red,
Boz Scaggs,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Thompson Twins,
Animal Collective,
The Vogues,
John Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Normal,
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
Sarah Menescal,
Grauzone,
Youth Brigade,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monolake,
Ornette Coleman,
Oblivians,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
Yellowson,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Age Steppers,
David Axelrod,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Josef K,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.