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 Samoa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Bluetip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Pole,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
Nik Kershaw,
Fear,
Tomorrow,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
Jandek,
June of 44,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sonics,
Lakeside,
JFA,
Popol Vuh,
The Fortunes,
the Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Pus,
Depeche Mode,
The Gories,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Copeland,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gong,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tres Demented,
Fugazi,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
Brass Construction,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül II,
Ralphi Rosario,
Section 25,
Bob Dylan,
Brand Nubian,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Moody Blues,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.