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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mark Hollis to the punk 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
Silicon Teens,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Duran Duran,
DNA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Leaves,
K-Klass,
Alison Limerick,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Eddi Front,
The Black Dice,
Lyres,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Modern Lovers,
June Days,
Susan Cadogan,
Infiniti,
The Dirtbombs,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
Pagans,
Todd Terry,
Kenny Larkin,
Crime,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Goldenarms,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
The New Christs,
Audionom,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Ornette Coleman,
Nick Fraelich,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lucky Dragons,
Magma,
Absolute Body Control,
Bang On A Can,
Royal Trux,
Scientists,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
Section 25,
KRS-One,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Associates,
Danielle Patucci,
Moebius,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.