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 New Zealand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Marine Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
the Normal,
The Angels of Light,
Rod Modell,
Gang Starr,
Groovy Waters,
Wolf Eyes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slackers,
Sister Nancy,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry,
Jerry's Kids,
Section 25,
Funky Four + One,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
Amon Düül II,
the Bar-Kays,
MC5,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Siglo XX,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
Alton Ellis,
Matthew Halsall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cal Tjader,
Talk Talk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
The Gun Club,
Chrome,
Brand Nubian,
Moby Grape,
Can,
Black Pus,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.