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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Agitation Free to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
Underground Resistance,
Mantronix,
Oneida,
Bad Manners,
Lou Christie,
Sarah Menescal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
John Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slackers,
Moebius,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jacob Miller,
Excepter,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crime,
Marshall Jefferson,
Matthew Bourne,
The Golliwogs,
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
Davy DMX,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gerry Rafferty,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
Yellowson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television,
The Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.