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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Infiniti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
In Retrospect,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fad Gadget,
Average White Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
Whodini,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Anakelly,
Chrome,
The Fuzztones,
The Residents,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
Pussy Galore,
Lower 48,
Q and Not U,
UT,
Ken Boothe,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
KRS-One,
Mars,
Crime,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The J.B.'s,
Yusef Lateef,
Sugar Minott,
Joensuu 1685,
Lakeside,
Nirvana,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
The Gap Band,
Ossler,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Inner City,
Schoolly D,
Slave,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.