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 East Timor and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the rock 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
The Doors,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Vogues,
the Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marine Girls,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
Yusef Lateef,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stereo Dub,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Negative Approach,
The Blackbyrds,
Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Almond,
The Motions,
Severed Heads,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Halsall,
U.S. Maple,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
the Normal,
The Offenders,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
China Crisis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Divine Comedy,
Cecil Taylor,
Suburban Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Funky Four + One,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Jimmy McGriff,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
the Slits,
Basic Channel,
Grey Daturas,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.