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 Lesotho and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boz Scaggs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magazine,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
the Human League,
Nirvana,
Max Romeo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Talk Talk,
X-102,
The Move,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
Brick,
Soul II Soul,
Altered Images,
This Heat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slave,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Nik Kershaw,
Moebius,
Matthew Halsall,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agent Orange,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
10cc,
Bang On A Can,
The United States of America,
Porter Ricks,
The Doors,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
Zero Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aloha Tigers,
Groovy Waters,
L. Decosne,
Rod Modell,
Babytalk,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.