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 Nigeria and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Real Kids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Interpol,
Robert Görl,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Jandek,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Rotary Connection,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Albert Ayler,
The Human League,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
The Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Barbara Tucker,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Moon,
Dual Sessions,
The Fugs,
Q and Not U,
James White and The Blacks,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fugazi,
Fluxion,
Fad Gadget,
Essential Logic,
the Germs,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Knickerbockers,
Mad Mike,
Lalann,
Urselle,
Funky Four + One,
The New Christs,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tommy Roe,
The Saints,
The Kinks,
Sound Behaviour,
Funkadelic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Alton Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.