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 Mali and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
Slave,
Yusef Lateef,
China Crisis,
The Last Poets,
Niagra,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joy Division,
Gong,
The Index,
Lower 48,
Ituana,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Tremeloes,
Funkadelic,
Peter and Kerry,
X-101,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Prunes,
ABBA,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
B.T. Express,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Interpol,
Anthony Braxton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Barracudas,
Infiniti,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
Dennis Brown,
Lyres,
The Angels of Light,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vladislav Delay,
Boz Scaggs,
John Foxx,
John Lydon,
Aaron Thompson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marine Girls,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
the Normal,
Flash Fearless,
Pierre Henry,
Nas,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiohead,
Qualms,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.