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 Poland and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Urselle to the grunge 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
The Happenings,
Desert Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dead C,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wally Richardson,
Fear,
New York Dolls,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
the Bar-Kays,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marmalade,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lindisfarne,
Toni Rubio,
The Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
Make Up,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Prince Buster,
Nico,
Eve St. Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Essential Logic,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Letta Mbulu,
Oblivians,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
Lyres,
The Red Krayola,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
The Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Subhumans,
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.