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 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sandy B to the jazz 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terry Callier,
a-ha,
LL Cool J,
the Germs,
Eric Copeland,
Inner City,
Bronski Beat,
Sam Rivers,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Colin Newman,
Au Pairs,
Circle Jerks,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
Make Up,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
Quantec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Graham Central Station,
48th St. Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
Skaos,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slackers,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Idris Muhammad,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smoke,
Agent Orange,
John Coltrane,
the Soft Cell,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.