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 Chile and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 David Axelrod to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alice Coltrane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Altered Images,
Heaven 17,
Pussy Galore,
The Modern Lovers,
Lakeside,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Liliput,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang of Four,
Black Moon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vainqueur,
Joe Finger,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eli Mardock,
Michelle Simonal,
Gabor Szabo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zero Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Half Japanese,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Josef K,
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
Hoover,
The Mojo Men,
Ten City,
Parry Music,
The United States of America,
Urselle,
the Swans,
Crooked Eye,
The Slackers,
Gang Green,
Depeche Mode,
The Vogues,
Joensuu 1685,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
Agent Orange,
Blancmange,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radio Birdman,
David Axelrod,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.