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 Tuvalu and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Siglo XX,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
ABBA,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
Al Stewart,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
Davy DMX,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Buckinghams,
Section 25,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
David McCallum,
The Misunderstood,
Bronski Beat,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
Moebius,
R.M.O.,
The Happenings,
Ken Boothe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
The Associates,
Rosa Yemen,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scratch Acid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Main Source,
The Young Rascals,
Thompson Twins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne,
Aswad,
Yaz,
The Moody Blues,
Leonard Cohen,
Half Japanese,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Lakeside,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.