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 Malawi and from Bologna.
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 Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Doors,
CMW,
Can,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
Inner City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
K-Klass,
Technova,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
Negative Approach,
Model 500,
Aural Exciters,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Popol Vuh,
Sonny Sharrock,
Television Personalities,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Oblivians,
Robert Hood,
The Monks,
Archie Shepp,
the Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
Malaria!,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Clear Light,
Bluetip,
Gang of Four,
Chrome,
Crispy Ambulance,
In Retrospect,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Banda Bassotti,
The Toasters,
EPMD,
The Young Rascals,
Lakeside,
Lungfish,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.