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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Moody Blues to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Loose Ends,
The Buckinghams,
Radiohead,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Radio Birdman,
Hashim,
Dead Boys,
Qualms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
the Association,
Rufus Thomas,
Suicide,
Donald Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smiths,
cv313,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
Roxette,
Public Image Ltd.,
Josef K,
Minor Threat,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Roxy Music,
Nico,
The Music Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker,
Procol Harum,
The Smoke,
Aaron Thompson,
T. Rex,
The Misunderstood,
Magazine,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
Black Moon,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
Icehouse,
Al Stewart,
Porter Ricks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Parrish,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.