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 Turkey and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Blues Magoos to the rock 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Harmonia,
Kas Product,
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Moby Grape,
New Order,
Cameo,
Minor Threat,
Terry Callier,
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
Eden Ahbez,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
The Velvet Underground,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Motorama,
Ken Boothe,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Outsiders,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
Duran Duran,
Byron Stingily,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones,
Visage,
The Cure,
Jandek,
Eric Dolphy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barbara Tucker,
Yazoo,
The Five Americans,
Graham Central Station,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
Ralphi Rosario,
Smog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun Ra,
Blancmange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magazine,
Vainqueur,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.