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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 KRS-One to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
the Human League,
Visage,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jandek,
Pulsallama,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
The Walker Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bauhaus,
The Invisible,
Nas,
Country Teasers,
Mars,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blues Magoos,
Danielle Patucci,
Parry Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soulsonic Force,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T. Rex,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lakeside,
The Zeros,
Little Man,
June of 44,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The New Christs,
DJ Style,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Wells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Excepter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
D'Angelo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Gang Starr,
Scientists,
Roxette,
Morten Harket,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
Rod Modell,
Rufus Thomas,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.