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 Iceland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Scientists to the rock 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
The Blues Magoos,
Brick,
The Gun Club,
D'Angelo,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Qualms,
Alison Limerick,
Anakelly,
Scientists,
Delon & Dalcan,
Con Funk Shun,
a-ha,
Interpol,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
MC5,
Gong,
EPMD,
Procol Harum,
Tim Buckley,
Jacques Brel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boz Scaggs,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warren Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faraquet,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wasted Youth,
Tres Demented,
The Invisible,
Wire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra,
Ten City,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
The Mojo Men,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.