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 Belize and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 & Gordon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Associates,
Pulsallama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Agent Orange,
Reagan Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reuben Wilson,
Slick Rick,
Excepter,
James White and The Blacks,
Mad Mike,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heaven 17,
Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Accadde A,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
The American Breed,
Faust,
Terry Callier,
Todd Rundgren,
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Lungfish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Henry Cow,
Cybotron,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
the Association,
New Order,
Connie Case,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Light Orchestra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cluster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Icehouse,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Groovy Waters,
Minutemen,
Peter & Gordon,
Radiohead,
The Saints,
Skarface,
Black Sheep,
Man Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unrelated Segments,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.