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 Nauru and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Average White Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Jandek,
Massinfluence,
The Detroit Cobras,
AZ,
Brass Construction,
Banda Bassotti,
Second Layer,
DJ Sneak,
Black Flag,
Eurythmics,
Joensuu 1685,
John Cale,
Kenny Larkin,
Lower 48,
Mr. Review,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skarface,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacques Brel,
T.S.O.L.,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Harmonia,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Green,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Swans,
The Slackers,
Eli Mardock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mars,
Deakin,
Barbara Tucker,
the Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
Von Mondo,
The Wake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lebanon Hanover,
DNA,
UT,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Patti Smith,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.