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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Star Department to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Organ,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Von Mondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Wings,
Blake Baxter,
The Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kas Product,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Teasers,
David Axelrod,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Mills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Talk Talk,
Section 25,
Sun City Girls,
David McCallum,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Joensuu 1685,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
The Alarm Clocks,
Erasure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roger Hodgson,
John Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.