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 Montenegro and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
AZ,
The Kinks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
The Offenders,
Tres Demented,
Second Layer,
Supertramp,
T. Rex,
Soft Machine,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
Neu!,
Nico,
Don Cherry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agitation Free,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roger Hodgson,
Juan Atkins,
Quantec,
Faraquet,
Agent Orange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The J.B.'s,
The Names,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fluxion,
Mark Hollis,
Sixth Finger,
Kas Product,
Television Personalities,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxy Music,
the Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
The Wake,
Charles Mingus,
Essential Logic,
The Cure,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.