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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barclay James Harvest 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Fania All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David Axelrod,
Eddi Front,
Joey Negro,
EPMD,
Freddie Wadling,
Wolf Eyes,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Dennis Brown,
Shoche,
Echospace,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Avey Tare,
the Normal,
ABBA,
Accadde A,
Roxette,
Fela Kuti,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry's Kids,
Skaos,
The Monochrome Set,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
The Invisible,
Radiohead,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers,
Peter & Gordon,
Mary Jane Girls,
China Crisis,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultravox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fortunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tom Boy,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.