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 Slovenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Icehouse,
UT,
Franke,
Ice-T,
Magma,
The Standells,
Jacob Miller,
Eurythmics,
the Slits,
Davy DMX,
Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Oblivians,
Camberwell Now,
Peter & Gordon,
PIL,
Buzzcocks,
La Düsseldorf,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
Eli Mardock,
Masters at Work,
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul II Soul,
Model 500,
Sonic Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
Rakim,
Babytalk,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Green,
Fad Gadget,
Scan 7,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Newcleus,
Parry Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Maurizio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.