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 Egypt and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Max Romeo to the crunk 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
The Angels of Light,
the Germs,
Marmalade,
Prince Buster,
Mark Hollis,
Henry Cow,
The Misunderstood,
Saccharine Trust,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Flag,
Nation of Ulysses,
Darondo,
Au Pairs,
Public Enemy,
UT,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
KRS-One,
Sonic Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Tomorrow,
Easy Going,
Alice Coltrane,
Skaos,
The Fugs,
Carl Craig,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
Massinfluence,
June Days,
Heaven 17,
Drexciya,
World's Most,
Trumans Water,
Livin' Joy,
Monolake,
Eden Ahbez,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
Albert Ayler,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
Organ,
Malaria!,
Moby Grape,
L. Decosne,
Scrapy,
Godley & Creme,
Tubeway Army,
Letta Mbulu,
The Divine Comedy,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.