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 Suriname and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rakim to the rock 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Quantec,
Scratch Acid,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Martian,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
Idris Muhammad,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Barry Ungar,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
Harmonia,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bill Wells,
Arcadia,
the Swans,
John Holt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Make Up,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Music Machine,
Oblivians,
Fugazi,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deakin,
Kenny Larkin,
Porter Ricks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-102,
Lindisfarne,
Ultra Naté,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Laurel Aitken,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
Black Bananas,
John Coltrane,
The Gladiators,
The Slits,
New Age Steppers,
Monolake,
Visage,
Surgeon,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bronski Beat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quando Quango,
Blossom Toes,
Scion,
OOIOO,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.