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 Norway and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gang Starr to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Archie Shepp,
Camberwell Now,
Pharoah Sanders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Normal,
Con Funk Shun,
Davy DMX,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Inner City,
Make Up,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thompson Twins,
The J.B.'s,
Kaleidoscope,
Scion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
Subhumans,
World's Most,
Joey Negro,
FM Einheit,
Ten City,
Nico,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Hood,
Freddie Wadling,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jandek,
Laurel Aitken,
David Axelrod,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
Todd Rundgren,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Isaac Hayes,
Sight & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Last Poets,
The Birthday Party,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.