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 Cambodia and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Masters at Work to the techno 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
Kayak,
Robert Hood,
Iggy Pop,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Moon,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
Guru Guru,
The Busters,
Bobby Womack,
Roxette,
Scott Walker,
Oneida,
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Fraelich,
Intrusion,
The Durutti Column,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heaven 17,
Gerry Rafferty,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Rosa Yemen,
Excepter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Names,
a-ha,
The Walker Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
Tomorrow,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Delta 5,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-102,
Blossom Toes,
Niagra,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kurtis Blow,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.