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 Paraguay and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Procol Harum to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Kaleidoscope,
Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
China Crisis,
Lightning Bolt,
Pussy Galore,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
Moss Icon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronnie Foster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Residents,
K-Klass,
Jerry's Kids,
Brick,
Freddie Wadling,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Black Moon,
Kenny Larkin,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
Soft Machine,
Funkadelic,
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
Interpol,
Monks,
the Soft Cell,
Pere Ubu,
CMW,
The Cramps,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
Ultimate Spinach,
The New Christs,
Subhumans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Invisible,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Mars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
FM Einheit,
The Litter,
Skaos,
Eric Dolphy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Rundgren,
L. Decosne,
Deadbeat,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
Fear,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.