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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Steve Hackett to the techno 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Mr. Review,
The Electric Prunes,
CMW,
Donny Hathaway,
Loose Ends,
Rekid,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
Tres Demented,
Joy Division,
Barrington Levy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smiths,
Groovy Waters,
Boredoms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camberwell Now,
Surgeon,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Thee Headcoats,
The Happenings,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Parrish,
Rapeman,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
In Retrospect,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo,
Davy DMX,
The Knickerbockers,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
Television,
Peter & Gordon,
Newcleus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.