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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Interpol to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Ralphi Rosario,
The Durutti Column,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Green,
Banda Bassotti,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
Blancmange,
The Young Rascals,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Icehouse,
KRS-One,
Marvin Gaye,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Godley & Creme,
Negative Approach,
Curtis Mayfield,
T.S.O.L.,
Television Personalities,
Danielle Patucci,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Almond,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Moleskins,
Sister Nancy,
The Victims,
Bronski Beat,
The Sonics,
Nirvana,
Eden Ahbez,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
Desert Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Grauzone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Parrish,
Popol Vuh,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pole,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Junior Murvin,
Black Pus,
The Fortunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.