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 Kuwait and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bush Tetras,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Magma,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Skarface,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
June Days,
Moby Grape,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alton Ellis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
ABC,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Bourne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
Franke,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Eve St. Jones,
The Slackers,
Eden Ahbez,
Schoolly D,
Sparks,
Lou Christie,
Slave,
Talk Talk,
Isaac Hayes,
The Neon Judgement,
Lindisfarne,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Deadbeat,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.