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 Somalia and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suicide,
Brothers Johnson,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
Rites of Spring,
Panda Bear,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Symarip,
Basic Channel,
The Five Americans,
The Cowsills,
Davy DMX,
Dave Gahan,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Thee Headcoats,
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Sun Ra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erasure,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
Infiniti,
Lalann,
Magma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Average White Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Machine,
June of 44,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
New Order,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.