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 El Salvador and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Swell Maps to the disco 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Normal,
Model 500,
Main Source,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Warsaw,
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang of Four,
The Tremeloes,
Roger Hodgson,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
Rekid,
The Velvet Underground,
Deepchord,
Wings,
Black Flag,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delta 5,
Au Pairs,
Eric Copeland,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smiths,
Kaleidoscope,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neu!,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxy Music,
Slick Rick,
EPMD,
Banda Bassotti,
Bauhaus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dual Sessions,
Soul II Soul,
Electric Prunes,
Procol Harum,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.