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 Iraq and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the disco 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
R.M.O.,
Franke,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Görl,
H. Thieme,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Morten Harket,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxy Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dual Sessions,
Make Up,
Porter Ricks,
The Busters,
Banda Bassotti,
Rekid,
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Pierre Henry,
10cc,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
Animal Collective,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
Funky Four + One,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Con Funk Shun,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
Jandek,
Kevin Saunderson,
The United States of America,
OOIOO,
Jacob Miller,
Neu!,
Cecil Taylor,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonic Youth,
Delta 5,
Loose Ends,
The Red Krayola,
La Düsseldorf,
Judy Mowatt,
Heaven 17,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.