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 Brunei and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lindisfarne to the grunge 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Robert Wyatt,
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Reuben Wilson,
Gichy Dan,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun City Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gun Club,
Jandek,
Peter & Gordon,
Visage,
Mantronix,
the Normal,
Jerry's Kids,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
Quantec,
John Holt,
Grauzone,
Roxette,
The Trojans,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
Neil Young,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Severed Heads,
The Searchers,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Radio Birdman,
John Lydon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
Alison Limerick,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
Metal Thangz,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.