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 Philippines and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Country Teasers to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Freddie Wadling,
Bad Manners,
Ice-T,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Toni Rubio,
Siglo XX,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-Ray Spex,
David Bowie,
Ken Boothe,
Camberwell Now,
The Trojans,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Skaos,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
Sixth Finger,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
Alice Coltrane,
the Association,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sound Behaviour,
This Heat,
The Litter,
The Fall,
Bizarre Inc.,
ABBA,
Angry Samoans,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Eve St. Jones,
Hoover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Almond,
Robert Wyatt,
Lower 48,
Fugazi,
The Cure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Public Enemy,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
The Moleskins,
Tomorrow,
Nick Fraelich,
Grey Daturas,
E-Dancer,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
Parry Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.