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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Bobbi Humphrey 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Glenn Branca,
Stetsasonic,
Jandek,
Nick Fraelich,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Buckinghams,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings,
The Remains,
Silicon Teens,
Youth Brigade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yaz,
The Cure,
Minor Threat,
D'Angelo,
Royal Trux,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fad Gadget,
Sonic Youth,
Harmonia,
Aloha Tigers,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Near,
Circle Jerks,
Grey Daturas,
The United States of America,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Accadde A,
Pere Ubu,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Womack,
Icehouse,
Livin' Joy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
B.T. Express,
Jerry's Kids,
Kerri Chandler,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Invisible,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.