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 Comoros and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 World's Most to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drexciya,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Five Americans,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Black Bananas,
Faraquet,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kerri Chandler,
cv313,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Jeff Mills,
The Count Five,
OOIOO,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Smooth,
Nick Fraelich,
The Black Dice,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
Inner City,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fad Gadget,
Shoche,
The Vogues,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Clarke,
JFA,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy Collins,
Al Stewart,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Association,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mars,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Lynne,
Crash Course in Science,
Guru Guru,
Blossom Toes,
LL Cool J,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.