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 Ivory Coast and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Jacob Miller to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Ronan,
Mantronix,
Wasted Youth,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aural Exciters,
Swell Maps,
Popol Vuh,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Sherman,
Arab on Radar,
Skaos,
Roxy Music,
Lower 48,
Stereo Dub,
Josef K,
MC5,
Lucky Dragons,
Organ,
The Mummies,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Wire,
Desert Stars,
Brass Construction,
Gichy Dan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Offenders,
Sam Rivers,
Peter & Gordon,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy Collins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Spandau Ballet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Association,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Cramps,
Urselle,
Schoolly D,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sällskapet,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Sarah Menescal,
Bill Near,
Davy DMX,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.