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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 The Trojans to the grunge 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton 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?
Gregory Isaacs,
Althea and Donna,
Joey Negro,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Womack,
Rakim,
Monks,
Camouflage,
Danielle Patucci,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Urselle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joe Finger,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiohead,
Maurizio,
Eli Mardock,
Audionom,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yaz,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Mills,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
Newcleus,
James White and The Blacks,
Inner City,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harmonia,
Accadde A,
10cc,
Max Romeo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Index,
The Mummies,
New York Dolls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fat Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Duran Duran,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
Ten City,
Henry Cow,
Roxette,
Tres Demented,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Green,
Ronan,
Slave,
Dennis Brown,
Gabor Szabo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.