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 Bhutan and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Monochrome Set to the rock 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. 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?
Mr. Review,
Ultra Naté,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacob Miller,
Barclay James Harvest,
Outsiders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Massinfluence,
Thee Headcoats,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
X-101,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Seeds,
Simply Red,
Ornette Coleman,
Fear,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerri Chandler,
Moss Icon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric Copeland,
Black Sheep,
The Birthday Party,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
The Durutti Column,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lightning Bolt,
Lower 48,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sight & Sound,
Deepchord,
The Moody Blues,
Ralphi Rosario,
La Düsseldorf,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Blancmange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Iggy Pop,
Ponytail,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blake Baxter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.