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 Ghana and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Starr to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Man Parrish,
The Raincoats,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson,
Saccharine Trust,
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
The Count Five,
PIL,
The United States of America,
Unwound,
Deakin,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gap Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Fluxion,
Joy Division,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Scrapy,
The Five Americans,
Lungfish,
Magazine,
The Seeds,
KRS-One,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Massinfluence,
Blancmange,
Ronan,
The Fall,
Warsaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Stetsasonic,
a-ha,
Cymande,
Jawbox,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nik Kershaw,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grauzone,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Smog,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.