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 Sierra Leone and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fugs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
Althea and Donna,
Eli Mardock,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Derrick Morgan,
The Busters,
Magma,
Lungfish,
Hardrive,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Shadows of Knight,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
Iggy Pop,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delta 5,
The Cure,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
Half Japanese,
David Bowie,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Foxx,
Interpol,
Swans,
June of 44,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Easy Going,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lightning Bolt,
Mo-Dettes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Count Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
Soft Machine,
Michelle Simonal,
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oneida,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Sherman,
Patti Smith,
Monks,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythm & Sound,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.