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 Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ken Boothe to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Suburban Knight,
JFA,
Black Pus,
Marc Almond,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
Model 500,
The Toasters,
Danielle Patucci,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angry Samoans,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
kango's stein massive,
Make Up,
Pere Ubu,
Terry Callier,
Cluster,
Scratch Acid,
LL Cool J,
Idris Muhammad,
Nirvana,
Urselle,
E-Dancer,
Skaos,
The Beau Brummels,
Swell Maps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kenny Larkin,
Erasure,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
David McCallum,
Section 25,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
The New Christs,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
The American Breed,
The Count Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agitation Free,
Bluetip,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.