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 Somalia and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
The Walker Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxette,
Monolake,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
X-101,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
One Last Wish,
The Slits,
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yellowson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sam Rivers,
David Bowie,
Japan,
Trumans Water,
The Modern Lovers,
Q and Not U,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Angels of Light,
Parry Music,
Interpol,
Drexciya,
Yaz,
Michelle Simonal,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tom Boy,
Robert Hood,
Mission of Burma,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-Ray Spex,
Althea and Donna,
Jacob Miller,
Stereo Dub,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Bananas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.