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 Niger and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Icehouse to the grime 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
The Kinks,
The Misunderstood,
The Tremeloes,
Brothers Johnson,
Pole,
X-Ray Spex,
Traffic Nightmare,
Duran Duran,
Curtis Mayfield,
Charles Mingus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MC5,
Scientists,
F. McDonald,
Moby Grape,
The Red Krayola,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gladiators,
Erasure,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultravox,
Bauhaus,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gun Club,
Deakin,
Lou Reed,
Animal Collective,
Scratch Acid,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
KRS-One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Invisible,
Godley & Creme,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sight & Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vladislav Delay,
Magazine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stereo Dub,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.