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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Camberwell Now 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
The Selecter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arcadia,
The Evens,
Lakeside,
Tres Demented,
Mark Hollis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Faust,
The Kinks,
Los Fastidios,
Wally Richardson,
Cymande,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Albert Ayler,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
The Buckinghams,
R.M.O.,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Don Cherry,
Radiohead,
Newcleus,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
Ice-T,
Prince Buster,
Stiv Bators,
The Grass Roots,
Tom Boy,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Pus,
The Smiths,
10cc,
Flipper,
New Age Steppers,
Public Enemy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Steve Hackett,
James White and The Blacks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Motions,
Spandau Ballet,
OOIOO,
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Skatalites,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.