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 Marshall Islands and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Icehouse to the funk 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Delta 5,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Pantytec,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
10cc,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Stooges,
Q and Not U,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
Popol Vuh,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rapeman,
Jerry's Kids,
Grey Daturas,
Radio Birdman,
These Immortal Souls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lyres,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Parrish,
DJ Style,
The Angels of Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
The Martian,
Angry Samoans,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
Quadrant,
The Human League,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gladiators,
Idris Muhammad,
Inner City,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
Cal Tjader,
Minny Pops,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.