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 Israel and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Standells,
Mission of Burma,
Minny Pops,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
Ponytail,
Bob Dylan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Model 500,
Wire,
48th St. Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Mars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Gregory Isaacs,
Guru Guru,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
The Techniques,
Nirvana,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fear,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Saints,
The Sound,
June Days,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skarface,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bluetip,
Sugar Minott,
Radiohead,
This Heat,
Warsaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Suburban Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Prince Buster,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Victims,
Skriet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.