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 Laos and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 kango's stein massive to the funk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
Khruangbin,
The Victims,
Q65,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
The Raincoats,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liliput,
Icehouse,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pole,
Gil Scott Heron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Quantec,
Shoche,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Aloha Tigers,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Colin Newman,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
Boredoms,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Blackbyrds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Gang Dance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lou Christie,
Bad Manners,
Roger Hodgson,
Underground Resistance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rosa Yemen,
These Immortal Souls,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Guru Guru,
The Trojans,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.