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 Czech Republic and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 The Detroit Cobras to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
The Saints,
Sun Ra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hasil Adkins,
MC5,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Underground Resistance,
Joe Finger,
The Mojo Men,
Boz Scaggs,
Pulsallama,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
Nas,
The Vogues,
These Immortal Souls,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
Kenny Larkin,
Yellowson,
Maurizio,
Steve Hackett,
the Normal,
Mark Hollis,
The Offenders,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zero Boys,
Pagans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxy Music,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
Tim Buckley,
Anakelly,
Interpol,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.