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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Amazonics to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
The Buckinghams,
Khruangbin,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Residents,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Franke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Clarke,
Adolescents,
New York Dolls,
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Foxx,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lungfish,
MC5,
The Music Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Scratch Acid,
The Durutti Column,
X-101,
Soft Machine,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
The Searchers,
Faraquet,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone,
The Velvet Underground,
Fluxion,
Wire,
The Invisible,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
The Doors,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Lydon,
In Retrospect,
The Gladiators,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Smiths,
Au Pairs,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.