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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Surgeon,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faust,
Blake Baxter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
Blancmange,
Ronnie Foster,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Duran Duran,
The Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grauzone,
Ten City,
Black Sheep,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Altered Images,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
The Red Krayola,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
Dennis Brown,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Intrusion,
Masters at Work,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Robert Wyatt,
Massinfluence,
Ludus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ornette Coleman,
Archie Shepp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
Simply Red,
Jacob Miller,
The Modern Lovers,
Underground Resistance,
John Cale,
Amazonics,
Carl Craig,
Mark Hollis,
Minnie Riperton,
Crash Course in Science,
Icehouse,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.