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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the grunge 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fall,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slave,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Carl Craig,
Massinfluence,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pulsallama,
Joe Finger,
The United States of America,
Intrusion,
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Malaria!,
The Music Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lungfish,
Roxette,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Jandek,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Half Japanese,
the Association,
Q and Not U,
OOIOO,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Terry,
Talk Talk,
The Skatalites,
Scan 7,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
The Knickerbockers,
Heaven 17,
Derrick Morgan,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tim Buckley,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
Television,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Aswad,
The Evens,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.