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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Dave Clark Five to the grime 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
The Tremeloes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Starr,
Nik Kershaw,
In Retrospect,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
KRS-One,
Scion,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
The Standells,
The Fugs,
Soul II Soul,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fatback Band,
DNA,
the Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Yellowson,
Minutemen,
Trumans Water,
The Seeds,
Infiniti,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
These Immortal Souls,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Real Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
kango's stein massive,
Rites of Spring,
The Leaves,
Isaac Hayes,
Carl Craig,
The Walker Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Underground Resistance,
Television Personalities,
Scrapy,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Pus,
Tomorrow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.