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 Jamaica and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Magazine to the jazz 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mummies,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
John Holt,
L. Decosne,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
The Cure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Moss Icon,
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Accadde A,
Peter and Kerry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
MDC,
Morten Harket,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
The Raincoats,
Godley & Creme,
Tres Demented,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
Laurel Aitken,
Rosa Yemen,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.