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 Jamaica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Selecter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Aural Exciters,
The Count Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Basic Channel,
Blancmange,
Wings,
Ken Boothe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
The Red Krayola,
DNA,
Siglo XX,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
The Fortunes,
The J.B.'s,
Liliput,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
The Beau Brummels,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ten City,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Tres Demented,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zapp,
The Victims,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
F. McDonald,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Copeland,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
Monolake,
Ituana,
Chrome,
Funkadelic,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
MDC,
Deakin,
Davy DMX,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.