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 Lebanon 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Electric Prunes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angry Samoans,
Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Lindisfarne,
Scion,
Section 25,
Q65,
Liliput,
Rotary Connection,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
Quantec,
Harry Pussy,
Leonard Cohen,
Sarah Menescal,
Goldenarms,
The New Christs,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Sneak,
Chrome,
X-102,
The Saints,
The Fuzztones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cal Tjader,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
Aaron Thompson,
a-ha,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Ten City,
Skarface,
Lalann,
One Last Wish,
The Durutti Column,
Steve Hackett,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Magma,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brick,
John Foxx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
The Zeros,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.