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 Norway and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
Supertramp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Symarip,
Pole,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Babytalk,
Nas,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boredoms,
Unrelated Segments,
Make Up,
DJ Style,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
The Happenings,
The Vogues,
Desert Stars,
Sugar Minott,
Average White Band,
Crooked Eye,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Delta 5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
In Retrospect,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
AZ,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
the Slits,
Mr. Review,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.