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 Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pantaleimon to the jazz 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Brothers Johnson,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
Soft Cell,
Shoche,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
Chrome,
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
Audionom,
Joe Smooth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed,
JFA,
David McCallum,
Terry Callier,
The Remains,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-101,
Nick Fraelich,
Blancmange,
The Gap Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
AZ,
Alice Coltrane,
Funkadelic,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
Sister Nancy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arthur Verocai,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
The Knickerbockers,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
Al Stewart,
Monolake,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Evens,
Echospace,
Bush Tetras,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
Youth Brigade,
Ohio Players,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
The Cure,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.