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 Congo and from Woodstock.
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 Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Tremeloes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets,
Joey Negro,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
Man Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Star Department,
Alison Limerick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eddi Front,
Lalann,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Toasters,
New York Dolls,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlback,
Silicon Teens,
R.M.O.,
The Wake,
Leonard Cohen,
Colin Newman,
Sällskapet,
Eurythmics,
The Martian,
Yellowson,
Monolake,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
The Fortunes,
Parry Music,
The Standells,
F. McDonald,
New Age Steppers,
Barry Ungar,
Grey Daturas,
Cybotron,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
EPMD,
Brass Construction,
DNA,
LL Cool J,
The Victims,
Kevin Saunderson,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig,
The Gap Band,
Funky Four + One,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boz Scaggs,
The Barracudas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.