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 Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 In Retrospect to the rock 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
Sight & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Bluetip,
The Busters,
Loose Ends,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Half Japanese,
Pole,
Marine Girls,
the Normal,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick Morgan,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Shuggie Otis,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
Heaven 17,
Kurtis Blow,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Das Ding,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
DNA,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
Main Source,
Funky Four + One,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
Qualms,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Suburban Knight,
Howard Jones,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.