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 Guyana and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 B.T. Express to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Patti Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Icehouse,
Thompson Twins,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Television Personalities,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shuggie Otis,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Starr,
Groovy Waters,
Brothers Johnson,
Fear,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
The Zeros,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Pole,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
Blake Baxter,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monochrome Set,
Scratch Acid,
The Electric Prunes,
Crime,
The Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
Con Funk Shun,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smoke,
The Velvet Underground,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Teasers,
KRS-One,
Aswad,
Rakim,
Skriet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Warren Ellis,
Donny Hathaway,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.