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 Venezuela and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Joe Smooth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Quantec,
Soul II Soul,
Joe Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mummies,
Henry Cow,
Icehouse,
Faust,
June of 44,
The Index,
Suicide,
The Busters,
The Fuzztones,
The Monks,
The Leaves,
Dave Gahan,
Kayak,
The Walker Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash,
Adolescents,
World's Most,
Bluetip,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
The Divine Comedy,
Masters at Work,
L. Decosne,
Urselle,
Laurel Aitken,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Y Pants,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flash Fearless,
The Litter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Whodini,
Rufus Thomas,
Wings,
ABC,
Cybotron,
Ludus,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.