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 Cameroon and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gang Green to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
Stiv Bators,
The Fortunes,
the Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eli Mardock,
The Buckinghams,
Eve St. Jones,
Severed Heads,
Susan Cadogan,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronan,
Moby Grape,
Parry Music,
The Last Poets,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Chris Corsano,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stockholm Monsters,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
Nils Olav,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Kenny Larkin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sparks,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.