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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Archie Shepp to the rock 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Susan Cadogan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Depeche Mode,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Wells,
Mars,
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
Basic Channel,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
Terry Callier,
The Misunderstood,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Moebius,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
The Gap Band,
The Black Dice,
the Association,
Siglo XX,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun City Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Desert Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
Unwound,
Pole,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gories,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.