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 Mauritania and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Inner City to the rap 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
The Tremeloes,
DJ Style,
Erykah Badu,
Crooked Eye,
Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Depeche Mode,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Erasure,
Donny Hathaway,
the Germs,
Vainqueur,
Nico,
Patti Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Easy Going,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Vogues,
Derrick May,
These Immortal Souls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
DNA,
Little Man,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
Motorama,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hasil Adkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
KRS-One,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
The Searchers,
Boredoms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick Morgan,
Heaven 17,
Roger Hodgson,
Judy Mowatt,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Q and Not U,
John Coltrane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.