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 Colombia and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stereo Dub 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Freddie Wadling,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
Gabor Szabo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David Axelrod,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Model 500,
Eurythmics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Mad Mike,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cybotron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Darondo,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
Marine Girls,
Tears for Fears,
the Normal,
The Leaves,
The Techniques,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
Bad Manners,
Minutemen,
The Slackers,
Newcleus,
The Trojans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fat Boys,
Terry Callier,
Vainqueur,
Rites of Spring,
The Star Department,
The Young Rascals,
Bill Wells,
Radiohead,
Y Pants,
Nico,
The Music Machine,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.