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 Croatia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The New Christs to the electroclash 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
David Axelrod,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Barclay James Harvest,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
Deakin,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Panda Bear,
Bob Dylan,
Tommy Roe,
The Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Angry Samoans,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
Tubeway Army,
Deepchord,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
The Mojo Men,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Faraquet,
Bill Near,
Connie Case,
The New Christs,
Altered Images,
The Gories,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Qualms,
Von Mondo,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
The Five Americans,
Kayak,
Cheater Slicks,
Audionom,
Dead Boys,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
Soulsonic Force,
The Wake,
Yaz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John 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.