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 Germany and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grime 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Eating Sloth,
Excepter,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pretty Things,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
The Blackbyrds,
The Velvet Underground,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster,
Kaleidoscope,
Charles Mingus,
JFA,
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vladislav Delay,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bootsy Collins,
Franke,
Sex Pistols,
Barry Ungar,
La Düsseldorf,
Judy Mowatt,
Agent Orange,
The Durutti Column,
Warren Ellis,
The Pop Group,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Index,
Inner City,
The Monochrome Set,
Mission of Burma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Vogues,
Roxy Music,
Fluxion,
Mars,
One Last Wish,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sonics,
The United States of America,
Swell Maps,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.