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 Kyrgyzstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Holger Czukay 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 Easy Going to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Pierre Henry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Morten Harket,
Lucky Dragons,
The Evens,
Wasted Youth,
Mantronix,
Bang On A Can,
Amon Düül II,
ABBA,
The Golliwogs,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Motions,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
Thompson Twins,
Gong,
The Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Eli Mardock,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Intrusion,
Outsiders,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
Eve St. Jones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jawbox,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Jacques Brel,
Max Romeo,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stetsasonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Human League,
Nico,
Cluster,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.