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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Beau Brummels to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
The Standells,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deakin,
Lou Christie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
Excepter,
Derrick Morgan,
New York Dolls,
DJ Style,
Sparks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fluxion,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
Howard Jones,
The Star Department,
Ohio Players,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
Metal Thangz,
Half Japanese,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Colin Newman,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Supertramp,
Porter Ricks,
Laurel Aitken,
Deepchord,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
John Cale,
Marvin Gaye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mr. Review,
Television,
The Fortunes,
Moby Grape,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.