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 the UAE and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Ossler,
Vainqueur,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sex Pistols,
Eve St. Jones,
The Music Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Deakin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Ronnie Foster,
Country Teasers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oblivians,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
10cc,
Average White Band,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Misunderstood,
Anthony Braxton,
Tim Buckley,
Wire,
Thee Headcoats,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
MDC,
Eurythmics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agitation Free,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeff Lynne,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
Franke,
Funkadelic,
Scratch Acid,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Axelrod,
The Modern Lovers,
Basic Channel,
Q65,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
Dave Gahan,
Circle Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
Dual Sessions,
The Searchers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.