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 Malaysia and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the disco 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fugs,
Black Flag,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Pole,
Wire,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Average White Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Germs,
Bush Tetras,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marmalade,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
Byron Stingily,
June Days,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultra Naté,
Bronski Beat,
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
Masters at Work,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Basic Channel,
Talk Talk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Henry Cow,
Dark Day,
EPMD,
Scan 7,
John Lydon,
Jacques Brel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Scrapy,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
The Walker Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Ken Boothe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ituana,
Joe Smooth,
Symarip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.