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 South Africa 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Soft Machine to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Bill Wells,
Royal Trux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultra Naté,
Scan 7,
Cymande,
Glenn Branca,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mummies,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Dual Sessions,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric Copeland,
MC5,
Crooked Eye,
The Durutti Column,
The Sound,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Ponytail,
Crime,
Metal Thangz,
The Offenders,
Eden Ahbez,
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
The Real Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Suburban Knight,
The Last Poets,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Goldenarms,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
The Star Department,
Niagra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.