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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Arab on Radar to the electroclash 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Aaron Thompson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Ultra Naté,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
U.S. Maple,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
Pylon,
John Foxx,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shoche,
Malaria!,
The Blues Magoos,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jeff Lynne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Hashim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joe Finger,
Harmonia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Litter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Erasure,
EPMD,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Order,
Davy DMX,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.