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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
Hot Snakes,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
The Martian,
Jawbox,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Intrusion,
Man Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quadrant,
B.T. Express,
Subhumans,
Alison Limerick,
Khruangbin,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
Scientists,
Mad Mike,
Laurel Aitken,
Crooked Eye,
Index,
Popol Vuh,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Sheep,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
New Age Steppers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Beau Brummels,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nirvana,
Sound Behaviour,
Joe Finger,
Dead Boys,
CMW,
Fluxion,
Amazonics,
Agitation Free,
Dark Day,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Flag,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.