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 Comoros and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Five Americans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Joey Negro,
Outsiders,
New York Dolls,
Quantec,
Minny Pops,
Kerri Chandler,
Rekid,
Easy Going,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
The Gun Club,
Banda Bassotti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Public Enemy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Qualms,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Mo-Dettes,
Ohio Players,
Patti Smith,
the Normal,
Shoche,
Don Cherry,
Organ,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masters at Work,
Audionom,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
Scientists,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Erykah Badu,
Lungfish,
China Crisis,
Tears for Fears,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
The Gories,
Neil Young,
Quadrant,
Lee Hazlewood,
Circle Jerks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
X-101,
Babytalk,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Iggy Pop,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.