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 Switzerland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Junior Murvin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
Index,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
ABC,
Y Pants,
Sällskapet,
Ultra Naté,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
Sam Rivers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
Robert Görl,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
Agitation Free,
Grauzone,
Q and Not U,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
Pierre Henry,
Outsiders,
Amazonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Monks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moody Blues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bluetip,
Ornette Coleman,
Al Stewart,
Roger Hodgson,
The Shadows of Knight,
DNA,
kango's stein massive,
Minor Threat,
Stetsasonic,
Thompson Twins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monochrome Set,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
Basic Channel,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.