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 France and from Glasgow.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joey Negro to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aaron Thompson,
Vainqueur,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
Isaac Hayes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yaz,
June of 44,
Wire,
Peter and Kerry,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mojo Men,
Dead Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
Ultravox,
Todd Rundgren,
the Association,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
The Grass Roots,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
Steve Hackett,
Stiv Bators,
Visage,
Roxette,
John Holt,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Angry Samoans,
Rotary Connection,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
Hashim,
The Count Five,
Public Enemy,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
Liliput,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
David McCallum,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
AZ,
The American Breed,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
Harmonia,
Animal Collective,
Masters at Work,
The Last Poets,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.