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 Chile and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Gories to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
Janne Schatter,
The Skatalites,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nirvana,
Bobby Sherman,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
World's Most,
AZ,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nik Kershaw,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Franke,
Harmonia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amon Düül,
Godley & Creme,
Glenn Branca,
Royal Trux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Danielle Patucci,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pretty Things,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ituana,
The Mojo Men,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
Terry Callier,
Nas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Niagra,
Leonard Cohen,
New Age Steppers,
The Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Warren Ellis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Flamin' Groovies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Star Department,
Sound Behaviour,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.