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 Papua New Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Model 500,
Pantytec,
Warsaw,
Amon Düül,
R.M.O.,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
Altered Images,
Grauzone,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Suburban Knight,
The Black Dice,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hoover,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
The Busters,
Pylon,
Bill Near,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Darondo,
Scion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Standells,
Avey Tare,
8 Eyed Spy,
E-Dancer,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faraquet,
Ponytail,
Steve Hackett,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sam Rivers,
Crooked Eye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oblivians,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.