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 Canada and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 The Litter to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Boz Scaggs,
Lakeside,
Jerry's Kids,
Ken Boothe,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
The Slackers,
Moebius,
Hoover,
Lightning Bolt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boogie Down Productions,
Inner City,
One Last Wish,
China Crisis,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
Don Cherry,
Whodini,
Pole,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Buckinghams,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Infiniti,
The Music Machine,
Cybotron,
Half Japanese,
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-102,
Royal Trux,
Deepchord,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalann,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Womack,
Nas,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Beau Brummels,
Quantec,
Q and Not U,
Grey Daturas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yaz,
Wally Richardson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul II Soul,
Blake Baxter,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.