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 Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 This Heat to the rap 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Knickerbockers,
Sister Nancy,
Funkadelic,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Eddi Front,
New Order,
Iggy Pop,
Pussy Galore,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
The Busters,
Robert Wyatt,
Wasted Youth,
John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Severed Heads,
The Fugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Davy DMX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Q65,
Kas Product,
Radiohead,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ten City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cure,
kango's stein massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Technova,
Alphaville,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
Arcadia,
Joy Division,
The Barracudas,
Suburban Knight,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soul II Soul,
June of 44,
Talk Talk,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
New Age Steppers,
Pierre Henry,
John Foxx,
The Fire Engines,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.