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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Howard Jones to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Metal Thangz,
Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
The Buckinghams,
Wasted Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mantronix,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
Chris Corsano,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Q and Not U,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
Basic Channel,
Von Mondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camouflage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Steve Hackett,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Stereo Dub,
Zapp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eden Ahbez,
Eli Mardock,
The Pretty Things,
Mars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter and Kerry,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Radio Birdman,
The J.B.'s,
The Toasters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Theoretical Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grauzone,
Kaleidoscope,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
Panda Bear,
Flipper,
The Residents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Fraelich,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.