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 El Salvador and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lindisfarne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
Desert Stars,
Infiniti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Selecter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Public Enemy,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aural Exciters,
Technova,
Fela Kuti,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
A Certain Ratio,
Toni Rubio,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
Susan Cadogan,
Isaac Hayes,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tim Buckley,
Faust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reagan Youth,
Bad Manners,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
The Black Dice,
Clear Light,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
LL Cool J,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Ituana,
The J.B.'s,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Almond,
Throbbing Gristle,
Morten Harket,
Moebius,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.