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 Mexico 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
the Soft Cell,
Hot Snakes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pulsallama,
Idris Muhammad,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
AZ,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Brass Construction,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Mars,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
Aural Exciters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Albert Ayler,
Franke,
Tubeway Army,
Altered Images,
The Human League,
Audionom,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Swans,
Neil Young,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiohead,
Cybotron,
The Durutti Column,
The Cramps,
Accadde A,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
Talk Talk,
Joyce Sims,
Minor Threat,
Faust,
One Last Wish,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.