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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Mantronix,
The Selecter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed,
Piero Umiliani,
Soulsonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Beau Brummels,
X-101,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
Audionom,
Visage,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Moebius,
John Lydon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men,
The Happenings,
The Fortunes,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
The Trojans,
The Litter,
a-ha,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalann,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
FM Einheit,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ossler,
Trumans Water,
Soft Cell,
Radiohead,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Altered Images,
Inner City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
Eden Ahbez,
cv313,
Second Layer,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
Reuben Wilson,
L. Decosne,
Babytalk,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.