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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the dance 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Popol Vuh,
Oblivians,
Eden Ahbez,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Copeland,
Donald Byrd,
Agent Orange,
Scratch Acid,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Symarip,
The Residents,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pretty Things,
Sandy B,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camberwell Now,
Bluetip,
Nirvana,
The Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
Archie Shepp,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
the Human League,
Liliput,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Dead Boys,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Bush Tetras,
Bob Dylan,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
Loose Ends,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Lydon,
David Axelrod,
Alphaville,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
June Days,
Mars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
X-Ray Spex,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.