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 Kyrgyzstan and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terry Callier to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bill Wells,
Subhumans,
New Age Steppers,
Newcleus,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
Sight & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monolake,
Brass Construction,
Jawbox,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
Juan Atkins,
The Star Department,
Jacques Brel,
Fear,
John Coltrane,
The Smiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wasted Youth,
Y Pants,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liliput,
The Misunderstood,
Henry Cow,
Japan,
Quando Quango,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
The Skatalites,
Porter Ricks,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalann,
Stereo Dub,
Royal Trux,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Bourne,
Dawn Penn,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sonic Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Leonard Cohen,
Mission of Burma,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.