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 France and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Icehouse to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
the Normal,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
Flash Fearless,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
Cameo,
the Swans,
Slave,
Smog,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ten City,
Pole,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brick,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacques Brel,
Moby Grape,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris Corsano,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Mandrill,
Silicon Teens,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
Main Source,
Crispian St. Peters,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Adolescents,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alison Limerick,
Don Cherry,
Barbara Tucker,
Yellowson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Howard Jones,
Quando Quango,
Tommy Roe,
Janne Schatter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Q65,
Tubeway Army,
Juan Atkins,
Interpol,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
Danielle Patucci,
The Star Department,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.