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 Croatia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 The Mummies 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
Quando Quango,
Morten Harket,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
The Monochrome Set,
Erasure,
Boredoms,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Roxette,
Crime,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Andrew Hill,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants,
Guru Guru,
Sonny Sharrock,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Model 500,
Rotary Connection,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cluster,
Byron Stingily,
The Vogues,
Minor Threat,
Dave Gahan,
JFA,
The Saints,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
OOIOO,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
Pagans,
The Motions,
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
Malaria!,
Peter and Kerry,
Chris Corsano,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Mills,
Todd Terry,
Procol Harum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.