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 Kosovo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 X-101 to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Echospace,
Carl Craig,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
The Standells,
Pierre Henry,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Almond,
Ohio Players,
Tomorrow,
Suburban Knight,
The Leaves,
Altered Images,
The Raincoats,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Grass Roots,
The Dirtbombs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
The Gladiators,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
The Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Cameo,
Icehouse,
E-Dancer,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Trojans,
Slick Rick,
The Zeros,
James White and The Blacks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monolake,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Electric Prunes,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heaven 17,
The Residents,
The United States of America,
Faust,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
H. Thieme,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Lynne,
Excepter,
Althea and Donna,
The Fugs,
Sun Ra,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.