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 Palau and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 David Bowie 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 Real Kids to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacques Brel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
The Skatalites,
Altered Images,
Young Marble Giants,
Suburban Knight,
The Stooges,
Piero Umiliani,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
Mantronix,
Fluxion,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hashim,
Can,
Kas Product,
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sam Rivers,
Deepchord,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
John Cale,
Scientists,
Loose Ends,
Lalo Schifrin,
Surgeon,
Ohio Players,
Quantec,
Yaz,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio,
Procol Harum,
Brick,
Reuben Wilson,
New York Dolls,
Country Teasers,
Pantytec,
Interpol,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boredoms,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joy Division,
AZ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
Eli Mardock,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.