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 Uganda and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Silicon Teens to the grime 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
Inner City,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
Television,
ABBA,
Model 500,
The Moody Blues,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Talk Talk,
Davy DMX,
Kenny Larkin,
The Searchers,
June of 44,
Kaleidoscope,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
The Mummies,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Stooges,
Anthony Braxton,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tres Demented,
Sixth Finger,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aaron Thompson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
Little Man,
The Slackers,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Marmalade,
Nas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Clarke,
B.T. Express,
The Slits,
Harmonia,
The Gun Club,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yaz,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Görl,
The Doors,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.