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 Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Infiniti to the funk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills 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?
Funky Four + One,
Deadbeat,
Minor Threat,
Boredoms,
Fatback Band,
The Doors,
LL Cool J,
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
Slick Rick,
Derrick Morgan,
Amon Düül,
Joy Division,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Motions,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Agent Orange,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monochrome Set,
Stereo Dub,
Second Layer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skriet,
The Kinks,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Wells,
Depeche Mode,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sexual Harrassment,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
John Holt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camberwell Now,
La Düsseldorf,
K-Klass,
Vainqueur,
Lou Christie,
Lindisfarne,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mummies,
Malaria!,
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.