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 Armenia and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Boz Scaggs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Hashim,
The Zeros,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Intrusion,
Pylon,
The Saints,
Lightning Bolt,
Matthew Halsall,
Bang On A Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick Morgan,
Slick Rick,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Young Rascals,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
JFA,
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Lalo Schifrin,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
Lakeside,
The Cure,
Scion,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Royal Trux,
Goldenarms,
Gichy Dan,
Cheater Slicks,
Das Ding,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispy Ambulance,
Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Rundgren,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
The Cramps,
Television Personalities,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.