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 Mexico and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 The Names to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 Rakim 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?
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
Drexciya,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
David Bowie,
Moebius,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gladiators,
Babytalk,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Excepter,
Laurel Aitken,
Funkadelic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Martian,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shoche,
Terrestrial Tones,
Visage,
Nico,
Inner City,
The Skatalites,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
The Pop Group,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
Alison Limerick,
The Durutti Column,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
LL Cool J,
The Doobie Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacques Brel,
Theoretical Girls,
Jandek,
Jeru the Damaja,
Von Mondo,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
the Sonics,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.