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 Iceland and from Cairo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Smog to the electroclash 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
the Slits,
Smog,
Clear Light,
Spoonie Gee,
PIL,
Nick Fraelich,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yusef Lateef,
Delta 5,
Magazine,
The Moleskins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Letta Mbulu,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pet Shop Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Liliput,
OOIOO,
Circle Jerks,
LL Cool J,
Prince Buster,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Marine Girls,
Scratch Acid,
The Saints,
Fluxion,
Chris Corsano,
Al Stewart,
Au Pairs,
New Age Steppers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scion,
Inner City,
Amon Düül,
Nils Olav,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.