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 Finland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Toni Rubio to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vladislav Delay,
The American Breed,
Bob Dylan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Lydon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Jandek,
kango's stein massive,
Cluster,
Tres Demented,
FM Einheit,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masters at Work,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Green,
The Fortunes,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
John Coltrane,
ABBA,
Smog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alton Ellis,
The Associates,
Freddie Wadling,
L. Decosne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moss Icon,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heaven 17,
Robert Görl,
the Bar-Kays,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Mars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joyce Sims,
Glambeats Corp.,
Visage,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Copeland,
Joey Negro,
The Buckinghams,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.