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 Iraq and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James White and The Blacks to the rock 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Bluetip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
Amon Düül,
Isaac Hayes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
Royal Trux,
Judy Mowatt,
Scott Walker,
Joyce Sims,
Public Enemy,
Easy Going,
New Order,
Jeff Lynne,
The Misunderstood,
Camberwell Now,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Maurizio,
The Seeds,
Roy Ayers,
David Bowie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sandy B,
Hardrive,
Wire,
Swans,
Althea and Donna,
Fela Kuti,
Ten City,
Marmalade,
the Slits,
Blake Baxter,
The New Christs,
Audionom,
Dual Sessions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Patti Smith,
Flipper,
Young Marble Giants,
Erykah Badu,
Johnny Clarke,
Monks,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Simply Red,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Bourne,
The Real Kids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nils Olav,
Eve St. Jones,
David Axelrod,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.