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 Cuba and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lungfish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ten City,
Bang On A Can,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
Joe Finger,
Masters at Work,
Pussy Galore,
Gabor Szabo,
Thompson Twins,
Depeche Mode,
The Names,
Eric Dolphy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moebius,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barry Ungar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lindisfarne,
Judy Mowatt,
Crime,
Frankie Knuckles,
Outsiders,
Hot Snakes,
the Soft Cell,
Television,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
The Skatalites,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
Ronnie Foster,
Joyce Sims,
MDC,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronan,
Shuggie Otis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Residents,
Rekid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.