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 Romania and from London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Arcadia to the techno 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Althea and Donna,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Cal Tjader,
L. Decosne,
Index,
Quadrant,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Enemy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxette,
Absolute Body Control,
Scratch Acid,
Cymande,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monks,
H. Thieme,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
The Gladiators,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Davy DMX,
Zero Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Glenn Branca,
the Human League,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Tim Buckley,
The Mummies,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Altered Images,
Thompson Twins,
Dave Gahan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.