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 Zimbabwe and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Sugar Minott 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stetsasonic,
The Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats,
The Leaves,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Soul II Soul,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Metal Thangz,
The Moody Blues,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
The Angels of Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Donny Hathaway,
The United States of America,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
Chris Corsano,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Star Department,
Youth Brigade,
Barbara Tucker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The J.B.'s,
Skriet,
PIL,
Rekid,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Toni Rubio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Cecil Taylor,
Schoolly D,
Trumans Water,
Chrome,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.