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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Lyres,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dark Day,
Von Mondo,
Flipper,
The Moody Blues,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
Black Pus,
Amazonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Cale,
Lalann,
Ituana,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
The Remains,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
Swell Maps,
Roxy Music,
Gang Green,
Massinfluence,
Camouflage,
Byron Stingily,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick May,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
Andrew Hill,
Leonard Cohen,
Fluxion,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
The Raincoats,
China Crisis,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
Aaron Thompson,
The Barracudas,
Minnie Riperton,
Matthew Halsall,
Excepter,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.