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 South Sudan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Bill Wells to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Inner City,
Bronski Beat,
Liliput,
Agitation Free,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
Icehouse,
Tubeway Army,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
Quadrant,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Toasters,
The Black Dice,
Heaven 17,
AZ,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Desert Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skarface,
Essential Logic,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Visage,
Shuggie Otis,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Depeche Mode,
X-101,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
Freddie Wadling,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Lou Christie,
Howard Jones,
June Days,
Fad Gadget,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.