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 Sierra Leone and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 Crooked Eye to the funk 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers,
The Birthday Party,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Albert Ayler,
Eve St. Jones,
The Misunderstood,
Metal Thangz,
Cecil Taylor,
Rotary Connection,
The Cure,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
10cc,
Warsaw,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Wyatt,
Eli Mardock,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Andrew Hill,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Prince Buster,
The Skatalites,
Country Teasers,
Hashim,
The Happenings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funkadelic,
Television,
Faust,
the Slits,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Terry,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Popol Vuh,
The Monochrome Set,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Mantronix,
The Index,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.