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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Tim Buckley,
Mantronix,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ten City,
Lungfish,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Skaos,
The Cure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Simply Red,
Ituana,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Litter,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Symarip,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Average White Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boz Scaggs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Dave Gahan,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers,
Unwound,
Ronan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quantec,
The Remains,
Deakin,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arthur Verocai,
Make Up,
The Barracudas,
Althea and Donna,
Suburban Knight,
Minnie Riperton,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Sonics,
Mars,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.