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 Tonga and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Gap Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
New York Dolls,
Japan,
Nick Fraelich,
Wally Richardson,
Cybotron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Swans,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bluetip,
Warsaw,
Chris Corsano,
Jacob Miller,
Kenny Larkin,
Pylon,
Erykah Badu,
Neu!,
Anthony Braxton,
The Misunderstood,
Hardrive,
Urselle,
Flipper,
Can,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
Gichy Dan,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
Q65,
Sound Behaviour,
David Axelrod,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Green,
Marvin Gaye,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Smiths,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
FM Einheit,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oblivians,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
Dual Sessions,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Selecter,
The Barracudas,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.