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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Görl to the techno 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Dead C,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cramps,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül,
The Gun Club,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Das Ding,
Roxette,
The Fire Engines,
Ossler,
Excepter,
New York Dolls,
Janne Schatter,
Kayak,
Little Man,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
Cameo,
Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Henry Cow,
Desert Stars,
Robert Hood,
Unwound,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The New Christs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rosa Yemen,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Cecil Taylor,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Fugazi,
PIL,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Neu!,
L. Decosne,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.