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 Mauritania and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The Golliwogs,
Chris Corsano,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Bourne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Organ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sound Behaviour,
Fifty Foot Hose,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
In Retrospect,
Parry Music,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
The Raincoats,
Delta 5,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
Quando Quango,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Mad Mike,
Blancmange,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
The Moleskins,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
Ronan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Standells,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
The Monochrome Set,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Smooth,
The Pretty Things,
Freddie Wadling,
The American Breed,
Wally Richardson,
Amazonics,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.