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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Index,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
Make Up,
One Last Wish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Howard Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Girls At Our Best!,
Motorama,
The Wake,
Bill Near,
Loose Ends,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Subhumans,
Rotary Connection,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aaron Thompson,
Little Man,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Swans,
Hoover,
Lindisfarne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike,
Morten Harket,
The Young Rascals,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oneida,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moebius,
Rites of Spring,
Arcadia,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Lalann,
The Residents,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.