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 Tonga and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the techno 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Finger,
The Names,
Ronan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yaz,
Japan,
Nico,
Cymande,
Gang Green,
Jeff Lynne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hardrive,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cramps,
Black Flag,
China Crisis,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yellowson,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy Collins,
The Searchers,
Parry Music,
Sound Behaviour,
Pulsallama,
Bang On A Can,
The J.B.'s,
Alison Limerick,
The Fugs,
Sarah Menescal,
The Remains,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Qualms,
Mr. Review,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül,
Ohio Players,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
The Move,
Eric Copeland,
Roger Hodgson,
the Slits,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.