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 Uruguay and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Trojans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terry Callier,
Nik Kershaw,
Danielle Patucci,
Fad Gadget,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Glenn Branca,
Echospace,
The Last Poets,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
B.T. Express,
DJ Style,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Oblivians,
Josef K,
MC5,
Adolescents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lyres,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rekid,
Jacob Miller,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
Rod Modell,
Wings,
ABBA,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
Television,
Bang On A Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.