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 St Lucia and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 The Buckinghams to the disco 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Clear Light,
Jacques Brel,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Marcia Griffiths,
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
New York Dolls,
Faust,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Marvin Gaye,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Patti Smith,
Vladislav Delay,
Ornette Coleman,
Rotary Connection,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
F. McDonald,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Idris Muhammad,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
Cymande,
Urselle,
Desert Stars,
DJ Style,
The Searchers,
MC5,
Deakin,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Coltrane,
Harmonia,
The Tremeloes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Victims,
Second Layer,
The Fuzztones,
The United States of America,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
Depeche Mode,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Unwound,
The Fugs,
Roxy Music,
The Velvet Underground,
KRS-One,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.