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 Solomon Islands and from Mexico City.
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 Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Sonics to the grunge 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Moby Grape,
Country Teasers,
Dark Day,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Negative Approach,
The Dirtbombs,
Underground Resistance,
Blancmange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fuzztones,
Gang of Four,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
DJ Style,
Max Romeo,
The Offenders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Smiths,
Royal Trux,
Tears for Fears,
Grauzone,
Mandrill,
The Monochrome Set,
Barbara Tucker,
Qualms,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cure,
The Selecter,
Alison Limerick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Modern Lovers,
Reagan Youth,
The Smoke,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
The Fire Engines,
CMW,
David Bowie,
Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
ABBA,
Heaven 17,
Franke,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
The Pretty Things,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.