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 United Kingdom and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 L. Decosne to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
New York Dolls,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monks,
June of 44,
the Human League,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Foxx,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cecil Taylor,
Whodini,
Warsaw,
PIL,
Radio Birdman,
Quadrant,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cameo,
Massinfluence,
Stockholm Monsters,
FM Einheit,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
The Pretty Things,
Lungfish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boredoms,
Albert Ayler,
Maurizio,
Fad Gadget,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
Joensuu 1685,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deepchord,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Womack,
Scan 7,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Soul Sonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Hashim,
These Immortal Souls,
Bluetip,
The Dirtbombs,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.