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 Ivory Coast and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 Bar-Kays to the jazz 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
T. Rex,
Iggy Pop,
The Seeds,
Half Japanese,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül,
The Leaves,
Bobby Sherman,
Alice Coltrane,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls,
The Saints,
Moss Icon,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Howard Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Ossler,
Glenn Branca,
Banda Bassotti,
kango's stein massive,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rotary Connection,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Standells,
Pere Ubu,
Porter Ricks,
Television,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Skarface,
Public Enemy,
David Axelrod,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.