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 Spain and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Hasil Adkins,
Kenny Larkin,
The Moody Blues,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Moon,
The Doors,
Ultravox,
Byron Stingily,
Brothers Johnson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Second Layer,
Yazoo,
The Cure,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cybotron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
K-Klass,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Sheep,
The Searchers,
Quantec,
Pantaleimon,
The Busters,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
The Young Rascals,
New Age Steppers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantytec,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Make Up,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Angels of Light,
Agent Orange,
Underground Resistance,
The Cowsills,
World's Most,
Delta 5,
The Modern Lovers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
48th St. Collective,
L. Decosne,
Lucky Dragons,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.