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 Kuwait and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Boogie Down Productions 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Babytalk,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
Oblivians,
The Golliwogs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sex Pistols,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
Panda Bear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Bar-Kays,
Graham Central Station,
Suburban Knight,
Y Pants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Grass Roots,
UT,
Unwound,
Loose Ends,
Godley & Creme,
The Smiths,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bluetip,
Alphaville,
Rekid,
Soulsonic Force,
Ten City,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Hoover,
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
Japan,
Joy Division,
Tomorrow,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
PIL,
Todd Terry,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
Archie Shepp,
Yazoo,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.