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 Slovakia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Golliwogs to the dance 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s 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 Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Skriet,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
Brick,
Pole,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Lalann,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Charles Mingus,
Kaleidoscope,
cv313,
Marvin Gaye,
Boz Scaggs,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Davy DMX,
Donald Byrd,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxy Music,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tears for Fears,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glenn Branca,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Move,
Bush Tetras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
FM Einheit,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
The Blues Magoos,
Fad Gadget,
Moby Grape,
The Trojans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Judy Mowatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
CMW,
The Motions,
David Bowie,
The Cowsills,
The Mojo Men,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.