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 New Zealand and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ponytail to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Barry Ungar,
Underground Resistance,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Tom Boy,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Real Kids,
LL Cool J,
Black Bananas,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moss Icon,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
New York Dolls,
kango's stein massive,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Popol Vuh,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joyce Sims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Count Five,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Rapeman,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gap Band,
Von Mondo,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
Parry Music,
The Stooges,
The Busters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
Graham Central Station,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Technova,
Moby Grape,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.