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 Cape Verde and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 The United States of America to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Fall,
The Names,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
Dave Gahan,
Jawbox,
Crime,
The Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
Bill Wells,
Dark Day,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quantec,
Hasil Adkins,
The Real Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Supertramp,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
H. Thieme,
Kaleidoscope,
Arcadia,
Scratch Acid,
The Pretty Things,
Lalo Schifrin,
Adolescents,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Halsall,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
Ludus,
EPMD,
Unwound,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reagan Youth,
The Wake,
Audionom,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
Anakelly,
The Monks,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.