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 Lithuania and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Parry Music 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ituana,
The United States of America,
Bob Dylan,
Faust,
Negative Approach,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
Skarface,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sugar Minott,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scan 7,
The Happenings,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
Arcadia,
the Germs,
Davy DMX,
Nico,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
Roxy Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scientists,
Soft Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mo-Dettes,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wire,
New Age Steppers,
The Birthday Party,
Loose Ends,
The Searchers,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Jawbox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
Tim Buckley,
Thee Headcoats,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Invisible,
Nik Kershaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.