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 Antigua and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 X-102 to the dance 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dark Day,
These Immortal Souls,
The Associates,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
Public Enemy,
Young Marble Giants,
Tim Buckley,
Flipper,
Aswad,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Hasil Adkins,
Blancmange,
Trumans Water,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bauhaus,
48th St. Collective,
Ludus,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
Drexciya,
Yaz,
Stiv Bators,
Porter Ricks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Barbara Tucker,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
Mandrill,
Al Stewart,
Derrick Morgan,
X-101,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Nik Kershaw,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
Andrew Hill,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slackers,
Make Up,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
T. Rex,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.