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 Brunei and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Ituana,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Normal,
Lucky Dragons,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
Animal Collective,
Roxy Music,
Lakeside,
LL Cool J,
Maurizio,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aural Exciters,
D'Angelo,
Intrusion,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
Sandy B,
Sun City Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Swell Maps,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Scratch Acid,
Excepter,
Lou Reed,
L. Decosne,
The Young Rascals,
Scan 7,
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
Godley & Creme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Hood,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
The Gun Club,
Echospace,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gong,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
Marine Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
David Axelrod,
Suburban Knight,
Patti Smith,
Kas Product,
The Victims,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.