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 Guinea-Bissau and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Pretty Things to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
Peter & Gordon,
Groovy Waters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pylon,
MC5,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Infiniti,
E-Dancer,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Clear Light,
Reuben Wilson,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
Mo-Dettes,
Sixth Finger,
Fugazi,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Altered Images,
Chrome,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
The Beau Brummels,
Niagra,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Barrington Levy,
Sonic Youth,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
Leonard Cohen,
The New Christs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.