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 Lesotho and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Massinfluence to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed,
Althea and Donna,
X-Ray Spex,
Y Pants,
Harmonia,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
LL Cool J,
Carl Craig,
The Vogues,
Visage,
Joy Division,
The Doors,
Absolute Body Control,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scratch Acid,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Silicon Teens,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
48th St. Collective,
Suburban Knight,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
The Divine Comedy,
F. McDonald,
The Durutti Column,
Magma,
Aaron Thompson,
Alison Limerick,
Royal Trux,
Jacob Miller,
Ludus,
Roxette,
Judy Mowatt,
Sarah Menescal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
Slave,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.