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 Andorra 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crispy Ambulance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Young Rascals,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Clarke,
T. Rex,
New Order,
Rosa Yemen,
Brass Construction,
Boz Scaggs,
The Birthday Party,
Bauhaus,
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Martian,
The Leaves,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
Can,
The Last Poets,
Theoretical Girls,
Sandy B,
David Bowie,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barbara Tucker,
UT,
The Doors,
Pagans,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
Joy Division,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nirvana,
Jacob Miller,
Suburban Knight,
Piero Umiliani,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Byrd,
Don Cherry,
Second Layer,
Gichy Dan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Bananas,
KRS-One,
Guru Guru,
Flipper,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.