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 Thailand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
Lower 48,
Ultimate Spinach,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
The Standells,
The Toasters,
Jeff Mills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liliput,
Ultravox,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
China Crisis,
a-ha,
Glenn Branca,
Scan 7,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
The Monochrome Set,
Technova,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Icehouse,
The Victims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
Swans,
Amon Düül,
Idris Muhammad,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television,
Rod Modell,
Camouflage,
L. Decosne,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Kenny Larkin,
Outsiders,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed,
Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Eurythmics,
Magma,
Rapeman,
Colin Newman,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.