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 Lesotho 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 David McCallum to the funk 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dawn Penn,
Funky Four + One,
Roxy Music,
Nils Olav,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Toni Rubio,
The Associates,
Black Moon,
Monks,
The Human League,
Fugazi,
Lucky Dragons,
Connie Case,
Anakelly,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABC,
The Busters,
Lower 48,
The Invisible,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grauzone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Cell,
Gerry Rafferty,
Altered Images,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Howard Jones,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Move,
Inner City,
The Fall,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
Jerry's Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Au Pairs,
kango's stein massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.