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 Ghana and from London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 Rites of Spring 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
CMW,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
The Smoke,
Country Teasers,
The Move,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Agent Orange,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Ten City,
Hardrive,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marine Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sound,
Funky Four + One,
The Slackers,
Ice-T,
Quando Quango,
Aloha Tigers,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
Loose Ends,
Qualms,
Camberwell Now,
The Happenings,
James White and The Blacks,
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
Radiohead,
The Kinks,
Boredoms,
Urselle,
The Fortunes,
Ultra Naté,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Massinfluence,
Drexciya,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fugs,
X-101,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Pylon,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.