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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Blues Magoos to the jazz 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
John Holt,
Silicon Teens,
Kenny Larkin,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sight & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grey Daturas,
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
The Associates,
The Smoke,
The Evens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Derrick Morgan,
David Bowie,
Urselle,
Au Pairs,
Ossler,
Todd Terry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
the Human League,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fuzztones,
Moss Icon,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Yaz,
Deakin,
Sam Rivers,
Lungfish,
Make Up,
Swell Maps,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Simply Red,
Leonard Cohen,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Lynne,
Audionom,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bizarre Inc.,
E-Dancer,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
10cc,
Steve Hackett,
Rites of Spring,
Crispian St. Peters,
Accadde A,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.