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 Botswana and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Wasted Youth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Funkadelic,
Pole,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
The Move,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Icehouse,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme,
Sugar Minott,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Camberwell Now,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
Agent Orange,
The Monks,
Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
The Durutti Column,
Graham Central Station,
Fad Gadget,
Ossler,
Roxette,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Motions,
Danielle Patucci,
Television Personalities,
Neu!,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Slick Rick,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
John Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers,
Mo-Dettes,
Tres Demented,
James White and The Blacks,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Hoover,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.