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 Brunei and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Guru Guru,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry's Kids,
Franke,
Bluetip,
Niagra,
Warren Ellis,
The Toasters,
Talk Talk,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
Suburban Knight,
Pantaleimon,
The Gladiators,
Joyce Sims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Görl,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo,
Cybotron,
Graham Central Station,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
Letta Mbulu,
The Knickerbockers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Glenn Branca,
X-101,
The Velvet Underground,
Pere Ubu,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
10cc,
Nico,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lindisfarne,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boz Scaggs,
The Grass Roots,
Skarface,
Jawbox,
Hot Snakes,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.