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 Bahrain 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Man Parrish to the grime 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Cecil Taylor,
Mars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Adolescents,
The Fire Engines,
Au Pairs,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Heaven 17,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lightning Bolt,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fluxion,
Neu!,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blancmange,
Carl Craig,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anthony Braxton,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marine Girls,
The Music Machine,
Pantytec,
Youth Brigade,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.