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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 Ultimate Spinach to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Khruangbin,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra,
Pantaleimon,
The Saints,
Warsaw,
David Axelrod,
a-ha,
Gabor Szabo,
Young Marble Giants,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gories,
Skriet,
Radio Birdman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Max Romeo,
Nico,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sight & Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Parry Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Japan,
Das Ding,
Aaron Thompson,
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
Index,
The Mojo Men,
John Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minor Threat,
Vainqueur,
Maurizio,
Goldenarms,
Alton Ellis,
Eden Ahbez,
Man Parrish,
Organ,
The Toasters,
Soft Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
Soul II Soul,
Urselle,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.