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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rapeman to the grime 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Symarip,
B.T. Express,
Wire,
Barrington Levy,
Archie Shepp,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Music Machine,
The Remains,
The Slits,
In Retrospect,
Camberwell Now,
Spandau Ballet,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
the Slits,
Maurizio,
Thee Headcoats,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
Sister Nancy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Half Japanese,
The Associates,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
Ituana,
A Certain Ratio,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Names,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pagans,
Josef K,
David McCallum,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Swell Maps,
Outsiders,
Young Marble Giants,
The Skatalites,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Toni Rubio,
The Residents,
Chris & Cosey,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.