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 St Lucia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Masters at Work,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Frankie Knuckles,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Names,
Dark Day,
Robert Görl,
Rufus Thomas,
Whodini,
Funkadelic,
Max Romeo,
Cameo,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oblivians,
Morten Harket,
Oneida,
Sparks,
The Sonics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalann,
The Vogues,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Skarface,
The Real Kids,
Brand Nubian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Radio Birdman,
Quadrant,
The Slackers,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Birthday Party,
The Saints,
Harmonia,
Hardrive,
Sugar Minott,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
John Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.