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 Libya and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Donald Byrd,
Scion,
Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ludus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Toni Rubio,
Albert Ayler,
The Moody Blues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Invisible,
The Buckinghams,
A Certain Ratio,
The Five Americans,
The Kinks,
The Evens,
Schoolly D,
Fatback Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Marmalade,
The New Christs,
Pagans,
Boz Scaggs,
Country Teasers,
Thee Headcoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Wings,
Talk Talk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Babytalk,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül II,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oneida,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.