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 Angola and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Radio Birdman to the crunk 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
The Stooges,
Thee Headcoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Visage,
Pierre Henry,
Smog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Robert Wyatt,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vainqueur,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lebanon Hanover,
B.T. Express,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gabor Szabo,
Zero Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Rosa Yemen,
Flipper,
Ornette Coleman,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gladiators,
Grey Daturas,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Depeche Mode,
David Bowie,
The J.B.'s,
The Invisible,
ABBA,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
The Techniques,
MDC,
Peter and Kerry,
John Coltrane,
John Lydon,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
Kenny Larkin,
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore,
Niagra,
the Normal,
Eddi Front,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shoche,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Adolescents,
The Motions,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.