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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Massinfluence 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Donald Byrd,
Scrapy,
Fluxion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lindisfarne,
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
The Fugs,
Joe Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
The Red Krayola,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Barracudas,
Nick Fraelich,
The Zeros,
Skaos,
Alphaville,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
Eurythmics,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Ralphi Rosario,
Michelle Simonal,
Rekid,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Selecter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues,
The Knickerbockers,
Soul II Soul,
David McCallum,
Arab on Radar,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobbi Humphrey,
China Crisis,
Bauhaus,
Roxette,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
Depeche Mode,
Quadrant,
Derrick May,
Kayak,
Tom Boy,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.