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 Venezuela and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Procol Harum to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Rites of Spring,
Sällskapet,
The Searchers,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
Minny Pops,
Technova,
X-101,
FM Einheit,
Underground Resistance,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mojo Men,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Country Teasers,
Joe Smooth,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag,
Connie Case,
Ludus,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
Mark Hollis,
Howard Jones,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
Charles Mingus,
Blake Baxter,
Basic Channel,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
Lakeside,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Mills,
Susan Cadogan,
Arthur Verocai,
Los Fastidios,
Sam Rivers,
Lindisfarne,
Index,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Colin Newman,
Fatback Band,
Deepchord,
Radiohead,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donny Hathaway,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Marmalade,
Neu!,
Quadrant,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.