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 Belarus and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Yellowson,
Erykah Badu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marmalade,
the Normal,
Stiv Bators,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quadrant,
Joyce Sims,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
Massinfluence,
Roxy Music,
Audionom,
Mark Hollis,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agent Orange,
Crooked Eye,
The Velvet Underground,
Swell Maps,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Womack,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eden Ahbez,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
R.M.O.,
Camberwell Now,
The Birthday Party,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Moebius,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Bush Tetras,
The Seeds,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Durutti Column,
Sight & Sound,
Country Teasers,
The Wake,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.