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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 cv313 to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Infiniti,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
Jeff Mills,
E-Dancer,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Selecter,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Altered Images,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Al Stewart,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Howard Jones,
Pantytec,
Hardrive,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Surgeon,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Severed Heads,
Stereo Dub,
Outsiders,
The Standells,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amazonics,
CMW,
Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool Moe Dee,
T.S.O.L.,
Siglo XX,
Joe Finger,
Kayak,
Wire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Underground Resistance,
The Cowsills,
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Young Rascals,
Joey Negro,
Angry Samoans,
Lightning Bolt,
Sister Nancy,
The Techniques,
Metal Thangz,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.