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 Cameroon and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Little Man to the jazz 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minny Pops,
Pylon,
the Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Judy Mowatt,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The United States of America,
Arthur Verocai,
Sugar Minott,
Livin' Joy,
Ponytail,
Stetsasonic,
Barry Ungar,
Bronski Beat,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Unrelated Segments,
Aswad,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
The Raincoats,
The Move,
Black Bananas,
Dennis Brown,
The Happenings,
ABC,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Standells,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.