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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 F. McDonald to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Christie,
Cameo,
Fatback Band,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Das Ding,
The Doors,
Juan Atkins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
AZ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
EPMD,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Rufus Thomas,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
David Axelrod,
Animal Collective,
Chrome,
Joensuu 1685,
Bad Manners,
Wings,
The Raincoats,
a-ha,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
cv313,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
The Pretty Things,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cymande,
Theoretical Girls,
the Swans,
Outsiders,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
Fad Gadget,
The Golliwogs,
Rod Modell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Don Cherry,
The Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Lakeside,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Charles Mingus,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
Gastr Del Sol,
F. McDonald,
Janne Schatter,
Country Teasers,
Qualms,
Nils Olav,
Stockholm Monsters,
Negative Approach,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.