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 Haiti and from Woodstock.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
The Skatalites,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
PIL,
Sun Ra,
The American Breed,
Robert Wyatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
Inner City,
Thee Headcoats,
The Raincoats,
Gang Starr,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
JFA,
Outsiders,
The Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Whodini,
The Real Kids,
Thompson Twins,
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pulsallama,
Eddi Front,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tears for Fears,
Heaven 17,
Skaos,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantaleimon,
Bluetip,
the Normal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ronnie Foster,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.