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 Tajikistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 Outsiders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Flipper,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
Thompson Twins,
Joyce Sims,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
Malaria!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronan,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Lungfish,
Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry's Kids,
The Seeds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Wake,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hashim,
In Retrospect,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
Lalann,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Jandek,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
Cybotron,
Popol Vuh,
Lindisfarne,
Robert Görl,
Faraquet,
Black Flag,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.