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 Syria and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Audionom to the funk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fat Boys,
Ituana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
Bad Manners,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Underground Resistance,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash,
Organ,
the Normal,
A Certain Ratio,
The Last Poets,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dead C,
kango's stein massive,
KRS-One,
Wings,
Supertramp,
Althea and Donna,
Visage,
Alton Ellis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skarface,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
Jandek,
The Red Krayola,
Mandrill,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Velvet Underground,
Sound Behaviour,
Dead Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Magma,
The Moleskins,
Quando Quango,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Ornette Coleman,
Das Ding,
Sam Rivers,
The Fall,
Deadbeat,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.