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 Burkina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Marc Almond,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultravox,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Rites of Spring,
June Days,
Laurel Aitken,
Toni Rubio,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
The Knickerbockers,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
Eurythmics,
Suicide,
Bobby Womack,
Porter Ricks,
Quadrant,
Stetsasonic,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Music Machine,
Minor Threat,
Guru Guru,
Donald Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rekid,
Ossler,
the Swans,
Anakelly,
Sällskapet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Neon Judgement,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Andrew Hill,
Jandek,
The Move,
Godley & Creme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Fluxion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minnie Riperton,
Accadde A,
Hot Snakes,
Joensuu 1685,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oneida,
Lou Christie,
Simply Red,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.