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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Hardrive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
Pulsallama,
The Kinks,
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
Byron Stingily,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Sparks,
Soulsonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Con Funk Shun,
Wings,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
Neu!,
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Joey Negro,
Guru Guru,
B.T. Express,
Sarah Menescal,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
The Victims,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scott Walker,
These Immortal Souls,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
Faust,
Skaos,
The Gun Club,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Zapp,
Q65,
a-ha,
Blancmange,
Funkadelic,
New Order,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
Aloha Tigers,
Goldenarms,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.