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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Second Layer 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Faust,
Avey Tare,
Cymande,
Hashim,
Sarah Menescal,
Warren Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Lungfish,
Anakelly,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Black Dice,
Darondo,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
The Standells,
Television,
Bill Near,
Gang of Four,
Archie Shepp,
Zapp,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Janne Schatter,
Godley & Creme,
Ultravox,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dark Day,
Erykah Badu,
Oblivians,
Accadde A,
Fat Boys,
The Vogues,
Camouflage,
Pulsallama,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
Brick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echospace,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Fela Kuti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
The Dead C,
Don Cherry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Silicon Teens,
The Martian,
Crime,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aloha Tigers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
Arcadia,
The Real Kids,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.