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 Tanzania and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 a-ha to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Los Fastidios,
Drexciya,
Cybotron,
Severed Heads,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slits,
Simply Red,
X-102,
Cluster,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
The Gladiators,
Livin' Joy,
Vainqueur,
Lower 48,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
The Walker Brothers,
The Human League,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare,
Smog,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Smooth,
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Japan,
The Saints,
Tomorrow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-101,
Qualms,
David McCallum,
Amon Düül II,
The Searchers,
Make Up,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.