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 Greece and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Real Kids to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cymande,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Henry Cow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ten City,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smiths,
The Doors,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Angry Samoans,
Barbara Tucker,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Duran Duran,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
Altered Images,
The Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Average White Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minny Pops,
Tommy Roe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Au Pairs,
Agitation Free,
Idris Muhammad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
Youth Brigade,
X-102,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bad Manners,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Walker Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Tubeway Army,
Rapeman,
Surgeon,
The United States of America,
The Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Section 25,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.