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 Armenia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Can to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
Radio Birdman,
Vainqueur,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
The Fugs,
The Human League,
Maurizio,
Inner City,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Henry Cow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lucky Dragons,
Schoolly D,
A Certain Ratio,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
Parry Music,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
Yazoo,
Ornette Coleman,
The Seeds,
Lalann,
Gang Starr,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Circle Jerks,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Eddi Front,
Mars,
Von Mondo,
Fad Gadget,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim,
Soul II Soul,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-101,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mandrill,
New York Dolls,
Fatback Band,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jandek,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
The Gories,
Jeff Lynne,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick Morgan,
L. Decosne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suicide,
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.