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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Skarface to the crunk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
U.S. Maple,
Television,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
ABC,
Ice-T,
CMW,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Technova,
Lakeside,
Black Sheep,
Leonard Cohen,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
Grey Daturas,
David Bowie,
Oneida,
The Skatalites,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Associates,
Iggy Pop,
Darondo,
The Moleskins,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Pulsallama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June Days,
Eurythmics,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bad Manners,
The Offenders,
James White and The Blacks,
Hashim,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers,
Y Pants,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
D'Angelo,
The Misunderstood,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
The Monks,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Livin' Joy,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.