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 Madrid.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Joe Finger to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Cramps,
Banda Bassotti,
Byron Stingily,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
Nick Fraelich,
Youth Brigade,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moody Blues,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Marvin Gaye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scion,
Supertramp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Colin Newman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Standells,
Con Funk Shun,
Animal Collective,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Schoolly D,
Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Main Source,
The Trojans,
Eric Dolphy,
Franke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dead Boys,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Vogues,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
Bobby Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Heaven 17,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Reagan Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Japan,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.