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 Sudan and from Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Man Parrish to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Desert Stars,
Half Japanese,
The Modern Lovers,
The Music Machine,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
Toni Rubio,
Marc Almond,
Darondo,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Monolake,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
Stetsasonic,
E-Dancer,
The Wake,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
H. Thieme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins,
Nirvana,
the Normal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Icehouse,
The Neon Judgement,
Bauhaus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arcadia,
The Cowsills,
Groovy Waters,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Style,
Slave,
Barbara Tucker,
Magma,
Guru Guru,
Soulsonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
The Leaves,
Skarface,
Sparks,
The Names,
Brick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Five Americans,
The Kinks,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.