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 Slovenia and from Portland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Joe Finger to the disco 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Sällskapet,
Todd Terry,
Brass Construction,
Public Enemy,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Inner City,
Underground Resistance,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Sonics,
Wings,
Kayak,
Little Man,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smoke,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
Easy Going,
The United States of America,
Sparks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacob Miller,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
Scott Walker,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
Oblivians,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fatback Band,
Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
Joey Negro,
U.S. Maple,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bob Dylan,
Jawbox,
Nik Kershaw,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
La Düsseldorf,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marvin Gaye,
Cal Tjader,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.