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 Lesotho and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sällskapet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
The Motions,
Infiniti,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mojo Men,
This Heat,
the Association,
T. Rex,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Technova,
Essential Logic,
Iggy Pop,
The Doors,
Echospace,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
Q65,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Supertramp,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Stooges,
The Trojans,
Symarip,
Stetsasonic,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Juan Atkins,
The Moleskins,
Faust,
Michelle Simonal,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
The Invisible,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott Heron,
Audionom,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra,
The Angels of Light,
Ten City,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.