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 Cambodia and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Henry Cow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
Steve Hackett,
PIL,
Michelle Simonal,
Buzzcocks,
Chrome,
Agitation Free,
Tommy Roe,
The Tremeloes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Real Kids,
Pagans,
Second Layer,
Yazoo,
Cluster,
Sister Nancy,
David Bowie,
Minor Threat,
Ultra Naté,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Davy DMX,
Bush Tetras,
Stiv Bators,
The American Breed,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Litter,
Popol Vuh,
EPMD,
Nico,
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
B.T. Express,
Parry Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
Bob Dylan,
Negative Approach,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aswad,
Bluetip,
Pere Ubu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Ossler,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Rapeman,
Ohio Players,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nick Fraelich,
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.