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 Palau and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Kerri Chandler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
June of 44,
The Tremeloes,
Alphaville,
The Index,
Visage,
The Durutti Column,
Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Reed,
Silicon Teens,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minny Pops,
John Lydon,
The Motions,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Interpol,
Altered Images,
Steve Hackett,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Essential Logic,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Trojans,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-101,
X-102,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
The Kinks,
Pagans,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
The Dead C,
Second Layer,
Anakelly,
Kerri Chandler,
Swell Maps,
The Raincoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Public Image Ltd.,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.