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 Belize and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the rock 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Lakeside,
X-101,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
The Stooges,
Peter & Gordon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
Icehouse,
Stetsasonic,
China Crisis,
New Age Steppers,
Lyres,
Intrusion,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonic Youth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
The Gories,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
Supertramp,
Can,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacob Miller,
The Busters,
The Wake,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tommy Roe,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Black Dice,
Sun City Girls,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
Grauzone,
Piero Umiliani,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ossler,
Crooked Eye,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.