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 Azerbaijan and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 June of 44 to the rock 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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Television,
Supertramp,
Nik Kershaw,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deakin,
Joy Division,
Swans,
The Invisible,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minny Pops,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
DJ Style,
Darondo,
Charles Mingus,
Joey Negro,
Bang On A Can,
Warren Ellis,
Amazonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grey Daturas,
Moss Icon,
Popol Vuh,
Juan Atkins,
The Cure,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
Adolescents,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mission of Burma,
The Slackers,
Camouflage,
Echospace,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Youth Brigade,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faust,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Sneak,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Excepter,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
Steve Hackett,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marine Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.