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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Smog to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Pretty Things,
E-Dancer,
Masters at Work,
DJ Sneak,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Flipper,
Inner City,
Audionom,
the Slits,
Leonard Cohen,
the Germs,
Camouflage,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Buzzcocks,
Q65,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Matthew Bourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
John Holt,
Matthew Halsall,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Bananas,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Christie,
FM Einheit,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-102,
Icehouse,
This Heat,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bad Manners,
In Retrospect,
Marine Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mars,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.