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 Romania and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Toni Rubio to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cheater Slicks,
Roger Hodgson,
Ponytail,
Gang of Four,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Christie,
The Real Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
Urselle,
Brick,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gladiators,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
The Move,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Au Pairs,
Black Sheep,
The Skatalites,
Soft Machine,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
KRS-One,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy Collins,
The Vogues,
Charles Mingus,
Black Flag,
Eric Copeland,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
Visage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
a-ha,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monochrome Set,
Stereo Dub,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
One Last Wish,
Gong,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.