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 Latvia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Kerri Chandler to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Patti Smith,
Little Man,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
Parry Music,
The Names,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Royal Trux,
Talk Talk,
John Foxx,
Television,
Ornette Coleman,
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deadbeat,
Quadrant,
Ultra Naté,
The Red Krayola,
Sällskapet,
Robert Görl,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
R.M.O.,
the Human League,
Young Marble Giants,
China Crisis,
Pussy Galore,
Au Pairs,
Piero Umiliani,
Oneida,
Bill Near,
Zapp,
Neu!,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
Terry Callier,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Suicide,
Reuben Wilson,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
The United States of America,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Smoke,
Ohio Players,
The Kinks,
Q65,
Matthew Halsall,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.