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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Josef K to the crunk 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Agitation Free,
Gang Starr,
Pierre Henry,
James White and The Blacks,
Gabor Szabo,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
Sugar Minott,
CMW,
Sister Nancy,
Marmalade,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Pus,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
The Moody Blues,
Fluxion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
Desert Stars,
Nirvana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pole,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fela Kuti,
L. Decosne,
In Retrospect,
Ice-T,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül,
Yaz,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Shoche,
Slave,
Echospace,
Josef K,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Velvet Underground,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
PIL,
The Gap Band,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.