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 Armenia and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Unrelated Segments to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Terry Callier,
Sister Nancy,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric Dolphy,
JFA,
Royal Trux,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed,
Pharoah Sanders,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The United States of America,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
The Busters,
Wasted Youth,
Minor Threat,
Half Japanese,
The Motions,
Sugar Minott,
Anthony Braxton,
Negative Approach,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
The Cure,
The American Breed,
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Camouflage,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
Wire,
Lungfish,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon,
Fugazi,
Flipper,
Masters at Work,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kurtis Blow,
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Residents,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.