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 Suriname and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Thee Headcoats,
Au Pairs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
The Kinks,
DNA,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
T. Rex,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
Essential Logic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lungfish,
Marine Girls,
Siglo XX,
Gang of Four,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slick Rick,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David McCallum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Spandau Ballet,
Maleditus Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marcia Griffiths,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Surgeon,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
Robert Hood,
The Associates,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
Max Romeo,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
Barrington Levy,
Cluster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
Lou Reed,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.