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 Cameroon and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Mantronix to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The Fall,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
Youth Brigade,
Mars,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Raincoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Camberwell Now,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Buckinghams,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
D'Angelo,
The Durutti Column,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Clear Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Scientists,
Slick Rick,
Danielle Patucci,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terry Callier,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
These Immortal Souls,
Arthur Verocai,
The Black Dice,
Simply Red,
The Five Americans,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
Minor Threat,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.