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 Croatia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Byron Stingily to the grime 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul II Soul,
The Mummies,
Japan,
Khruangbin,
Interpol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spandau Ballet,
PIL,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Organ,
The Barracudas,
Negative Approach,
Franke,
Cameo,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry's Kids,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
Barry Ungar,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flipper,
Nick Fraelich,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Q and Not U,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brand Nubian,
The Music Machine,
Rakim,
Can,
Althea and Donna,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Q65,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sonic Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Black Moon,
Zero Boys,
Schoolly D,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.