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 Gabon and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz,
Derrick May,
Robert Görl,
Davy DMX,
Colin Newman,
the Germs,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Yellowson,
FM Einheit,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unwound,
Cal Tjader,
Zero Boys,
Fad Gadget,
The Vogues,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
Albert Ayler,
Scion,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
The Evens,
DJ Sneak,
Lalann,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Axelrod,
Y Pants,
The Cramps,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nils Olav,
Deakin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
Second Layer,
Eurythmics,
The Fuzztones,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
Franke,
Quantec,
X-101,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Desert Stars,
Swans,
Niagra,
Rekid,
Amon Düül II,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.