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 New Zealand and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 U.S. Maple to the crunk 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
F. McDonald,
Lucky Dragons,
Althea and Donna,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bootsy Collins,
David Bowie,
Fela Kuti,
The Standells,
Outsiders,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Slits,
Animal Collective,
Suicide,
Sun City Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Minutemen,
Fluxion,
The American Breed,
Sight & Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Pagans,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
The Index,
Smog,
DJ Style,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Chrome,
Cluster,
H. Thieme,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
Subhumans,
Schoolly D,
Harry Pussy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
Blancmange,
10cc,
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick May,
Quando Quango,
Peter & Gordon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eddi Front,
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
Whodini,
Arthur Verocai,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.