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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Simply Red to the grime 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
Gong,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
F. McDonald,
New York Dolls,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Underground Resistance,
Stetsasonic,
Unwound,
Moebius,
The Angels of Light,
Gang of Four,
Nick Fraelich,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Patti Smith,
Panda Bear,
Derrick May,
T. Rex,
Franke,
Warren Ellis,
the Human League,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Clarke,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
Wasted Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
Q and Not U,
Eric Dolphy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Hood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deadbeat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.