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 Nigeria and from Spokane.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Sarah Menescal to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
Donny Hathaway,
Goldenarms,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
The Last Poets,
Anthony Braxton,
Idris Muhammad,
the Sonics,
World's Most,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skarface,
Scott Walker,
Young Marble Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
R.M.O.,
Banda Bassotti,
Suicide,
The Fortunes,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Monolake,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Quantec,
The Cowsills,
Flamin' Groovies,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suburban Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Reagan Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Mantronix,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Infiniti,
Tubeway Army,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
Unwound,
David McCallum,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
Fela Kuti,
Excepter,
The Fugs,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young,
Rod Modell,
Gichy Dan,
Joey Negro,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Scientists,
Popol Vuh,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.