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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the rap 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Scientists,
Bob Dylan,
Leonard Cohen,
Fatback Band,
Lindisfarne,
Danielle Patucci,
Interpol,
Slave,
The Buckinghams,
MDC,
Darondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
R.M.O.,
Flash Fearless,
Dual Sessions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kas Product,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
Moebius,
Tres Demented,
Roger Hodgson,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
Ken Boothe,
Gong,
Harry Pussy,
Y Pants,
The Grass Roots,
Vladislav Delay,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
The Move,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry's Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ponytail,
Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun Ra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Morten Harket,
Swans,
Derrick May,
The Names,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pagans,
Hardrive,
OOIOO,
Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.