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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Don Cherry to the grime 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
The Black Dice,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper,
Make Up,
Bad Manners,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slits,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
X-Ray Spex,
Tres Demented,
David Bowie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
CMW,
The Raincoats,
Gang Starr,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scratch Acid,
Scion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Doors,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
Kurtis Blow,
The Techniques,
K-Klass,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Marc Almond,
Barry Ungar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
June of 44,
Metal Thangz,
Ultravox,
Section 25,
Bang On A Can,
The Smiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.