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 San Marino 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 The Last Poets to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Franke,
Lalann,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Sonics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
the Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
cv313,
Bill Wells,
Jacob Miller,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Youth Brigade,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wire,
Little Man,
Todd Rundgren,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
Malaria!,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pulsallama,
Mad Mike,
Outsiders,
The Leaves,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Toni Rubio,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
Talk Talk,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
JFA,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
Alton Ellis,
Archie Shepp,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Massinfluence,
kango's stein massive,
Pere Ubu,
Unrelated Segments,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.