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 Switzerland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Masters at Work to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Livin' Joy,
The Searchers,
Urselle,
Iggy Pop,
The Birthday Party,
Cecil Taylor,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra,
Dave Gahan,
Bauhaus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T. Rex,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Monks,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
Mission of Burma,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
DNA,
Soul II Soul,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Remains,
KRS-One,
Nick Fraelich,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
Angry Samoans,
The Slits,
The United States of America,
Minor Threat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Last Poets,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
ABBA,
June Days,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Das Ding,
Radio Birdman,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
The Toasters,
the Normal,
Warren Ellis,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.