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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 These Immortal Souls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tres Demented,
The Remains,
Gong,
Rufus Thomas,
Byron Stingily,
One Last Wish,
The United States of America,
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sam Rivers,
Tropical Tobacco,
La Düsseldorf,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Excepter,
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
Sixth Finger,
Aural Exciters,
Faust,
Underground Resistance,
Index,
Jacques Brel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric Copeland,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
Junior Murvin,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Pagans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fat Boys,
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
Rapeman,
EPMD,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.