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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
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 snare 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 The Doors to the punk 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
E-Dancer,
The Dave Clark Five,
Can,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Busters,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
Spoonie Gee,
Easy Going,
Surgeon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Interpol,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Steve Hackett,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barry Ungar,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed,
Brass Construction,
The Slackers,
Tres Demented,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
Shoche,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
Pole,
The Fugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heaven 17,
One Last Wish,
Dave Gahan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Popol Vuh,
Delta 5,
Tubeway Army,
Vladislav Delay,
Bill Wells,
Grauzone,
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Bang On A Can,
Severed Heads,
Tomorrow,
Magazine,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.