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 Burkina and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Gories to the electroclash 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Fat Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
The Fortunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joyce Sims,
Toni Rubio,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mantronix,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
kango's stein massive,
Interpol,
Joe Finger,
Deakin,
Sound Behaviour,
The J.B.'s,
Swans,
Ossler,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
Youth Brigade,
Thompson Twins,
The Golliwogs,
Nick Fraelich,
Minutemen,
Qualms,
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
R.M.O.,
Laurel Aitken,
Joensuu 1685,
Talk Talk,
Cymande,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rod Modell,
Moss Icon,
LL Cool J,
Piero Umiliani,
Jandek,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Banda Bassotti,
Tommy Roe,
Reuben Wilson,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.