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 South Africa and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roxette to the crunk 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick May,
Yusef Lateef,
The Techniques,
Reuben Wilson,
JFA,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Pulsallama,
Infiniti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Zapp,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
Lou Christie,
The Velvet Underground,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slackers,
Todd Rundgren,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kenny Larkin,
The Index,
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rites of Spring,
Stereo Dub,
Alphaville,
Andrew Hill,
Mantronix,
Funky Four + One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doobie Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Sheep,
The Real Kids,
The Move,
Pussy Galore,
Subhumans,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
the Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronan,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Teasers,
Qualms,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.