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 Saudi Arabia and from London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Unwound to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
the Association,
MC5,
Blancmange,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Knickerbockers,
Eli Mardock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flamin' Groovies,
Liliput,
Porter Ricks,
Ronan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
Scan 7,
Tommy Roe,
Rotary Connection,
Fifty Foot Hose,
K-Klass,
Moss Icon,
Kenny Larkin,
Donny Hathaway,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Charles Mingus,
New Age Steppers,
Susan Cadogan,
Aaron Thompson,
Royal Trux,
Camberwell Now,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Happenings,
Cameo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joy Division,
Eden Ahbez,
Boredoms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
Pole,
Q65,
The Motions,
June Days,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.