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 Korea North and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Holt,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Goldenarms,
Rakim,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minnie Riperton,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
Cymande,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q and Not U,
These Immortal Souls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Chris & Cosey,
In Retrospect,
Liliput,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glambeats Corp.,
Junior Murvin,
Sun City Girls,
The Move,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Smooth,
Intrusion,
cv313,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thee Headcoats,
The Offenders,
Gabor Szabo,
Wings,
Barrington Levy,
Carl Craig,
Suicide,
The Moleskins,
Masters at Work,
Lakeside,
Scott Walker,
The Standells,
Sister Nancy,
Desert Stars,
Brick,
Monolake,
the Sonics,
Neil Young,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.