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 New Zealand and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Peter and Kerry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Oneida,
The Index,
Eve St. Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Duran Duran,
Kerri Chandler,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scott Walker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q and Not U,
Basic Channel,
Outsiders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Almond,
CMW,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Lakeside,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anakelly,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Joensuu 1685,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Alton Ellis,
The American Breed,
David Axelrod,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flash Fearless,
Yusef Lateef,
Dave Gahan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronnie Foster,
the Association,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.