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 Indonesia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
B.T. Express,
Yazoo,
Inner City,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-101,
Chrome,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Section 25,
Peter and Kerry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
10cc,
the Normal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
The Slits,
R.M.O.,
Fad Gadget,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
Hashim,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Y Pants,
Sam Rivers,
The Kinks,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Theoretical Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Anthony Braxton,
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
David Bowie,
Sällskapet,
Bluetip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cowsills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Pop Group,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.