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 Ethiopia and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stooges to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
China Crisis,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bob Dylan,
the Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scientists,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
Wally Richardson,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronnie Foster,
Sam Rivers,
Prince Buster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
Dead Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
Television,
The Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
The Modern Lovers,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
The Fortunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Ossler,
Kaleidoscope,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scan 7,
Erykah Badu,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
Sparks,
John Foxx,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
The Misunderstood,
Bronski Beat,
Roy Ayers,
The Velvet Underground,
Ice-T,
Negative Approach,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.