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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rap 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cheater Slicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Mission of Burma,
Wasted Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
F. McDonald,
Kenny Larkin,
The Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blackbyrds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Desert Stars,
Skaos,
Au Pairs,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scrapy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Aaron Thompson,
Von Mondo,
Altered Images,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scientists,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
Steve Hackett,
Inner City,
Ituana,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Skatalites,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Searchers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lungfish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minnie Riperton,
The Buckinghams,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.