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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rod Modell to the jazz 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
The American Breed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
R.M.O.,
Bronski Beat,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young,
Japan,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Eddi Front,
Popol Vuh,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Hardrive,
Joe Finger,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
X-101,
Max Romeo,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Ronan,
The Gap Band,
Fluxion,
Mary Jane Girls,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
In Retrospect,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Star Department,
Sparks,
Dark Day,
Junior Murvin,
Dennis Brown,
Skriet,
Visage,
Henry Cow,
Eric Copeland,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Livin' Joy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
The Residents,
Black Sheep,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.