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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Harmonia to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Juan Atkins,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Harry Pussy,
Black Moon,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
Black Pus,
Jerry's Kids,
The Skatalites,
MDC,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mummies,
Unwound,
ABC,
Sarah Menescal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crash Course in Science,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
Ice-T,
Slick Rick,
Quantec,
Bobby Sherman,
Essential Logic,
Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultra Naté,
Yazoo,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
Icehouse,
Susan Cadogan,
The Golliwogs,
Sound Behaviour,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques,
Loose Ends,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Al Stewart,
Jacob Miller,
Moss Icon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Move,
The Fuzztones,
the Germs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gladiators,
Sam Rivers,
a-ha,
Magma,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.