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 Venezuela and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the electroclash 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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lakeside,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Junior Murvin,
Ornette Coleman,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
The Victims,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
The Fall,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
Index,
Pantytec,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Cameo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
Eric Dolphy,
Shoche,
Stetsasonic,
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
U.S. Maple,
Massinfluence,
Erasure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Little Man,
Nick Fraelich,
Organ,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boz Scaggs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Happenings,
Accadde A,
Matthew Bourne,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultra Naté,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.