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 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Todd Rundgren,
Deadbeat,
Stetsasonic,
The Residents,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Graham Central Station,
Babytalk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Red Krayola,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
The Gun Club,
Rekid,
The Durutti Column,
Sam Rivers,
The Smoke,
The Wake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wally Richardson,
Skarface,
Adolescents,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
Erykah Badu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
Brand Nubian,
Tomorrow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Symarip,
Charles Mingus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brass Construction,
Average White Band,
China Crisis,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.