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 Estonia and from Spokane.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Television to the grime 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker,
The Trojans,
Main Source,
The Modern Lovers,
Minutemen,
Rekid,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Angry Samoans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Trumans Water,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Techniques,
Sister Nancy,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
The Count Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pierre Henry,
Groovy Waters,
Judy Mowatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric Copeland,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Evens,
Leonard Cohen,
Liliput,
Yusef Lateef,
Ponytail,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reagan Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.