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 Honduras and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lower 48 to the dance 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
T. Rex,
The Pretty Things,
D'Angelo,
Jacques Brel,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Au Pairs,
Pierre Henry,
Ten City,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Brick,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thompson Twins,
Tears for Fears,
Leonard Cohen,
Johnny Clarke,
The Seeds,
Ronnie Foster,
Don Cherry,
Mission of Burma,
Henry Cow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Trojans,
Isaac Hayes,
Rosa Yemen,
Moss Icon,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
Warsaw,
Curtis Mayfield,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Joensuu 1685,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronan,
Ultravox,
Sam Rivers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
World's Most,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
The Fall,
the Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cheater Slicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.