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 Slovakia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Red Krayola to the crunk 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
Prince Buster,
Scion,
Kenny Larkin,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
Kaleidoscope,
Tom Boy,
Curtis Mayfield,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
Nirvana,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bluetip,
Babytalk,
Groovy Waters,
Sugar Minott,
The Young Rascals,
Black Sheep,
Wolf Eyes,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
The Selecter,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
China Crisis,
Rosa Yemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl,
Motorama,
a-ha,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
The Move,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Country Teasers,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Panda Bear,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.