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 Benin and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Hood to the funk 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The New Christs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Camberwell Now,
Absolute Body Control,
Amazonics,
Suicide,
Niagra,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scion,
Alice Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Franke,
Althea and Donna,
Drexciya,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Holt,
The Tremeloes,
The Invisible,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-101,
Terry Callier,
Fluxion,
Alton Ellis,
Magazine,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
Hashim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
JFA,
Black Sheep,
Dennis Brown,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
ABBA,
Laurel Aitken,
The Move,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
David McCallum,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.