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 Iceland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Sound to the dance 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Rakim,
Jawbox,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Wyatt,
Funky Four + One,
Black Sheep,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Pus,
Robert Hood,
Saccharine Trust,
Inner City,
The Golliwogs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
Rotary Connection,
Eurythmics,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
The Moody Blues,
The Trojans,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
Yellowson,
Drexciya,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pussy Galore,
EPMD,
The Techniques,
cv313,
Eve St. Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
Johnny Clarke,
John Cale,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Mad Mike,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
The Cure,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Surgeon,
The Victims,
Arthur Verocai,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.