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 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 The Moody Blues to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s 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 Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Kaleidoscope,
X-101,
Mark Hollis,
T. Rex,
JFA,
Harpers Bizarre,
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
Traffic Nightmare,
Steve Hackett,
Khruangbin,
10cc,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
The Searchers,
The Trojans,
Country Teasers,
Quando Quango,
Boredoms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
The Standells,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cymande,
Dave Gahan,
The Stooges,
The Fortunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ice-T,
Oneida,
Cecil Taylor,
Jandek,
Radio Birdman,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker,
Essential Logic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stetsasonic,
Maleditus Sound,
Rekid,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Sherman,
Little Man,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fat Boys,
CMW,
The Gladiators,
Iggy Pop,
Porter Ricks,
Nick Fraelich,
Davy DMX,
Ossler,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.