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 Morocco and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 R.M.O. to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Buckinghams,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Pagans,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
The Invisible,
Scientists,
Barclay James Harvest,
Panda Bear,
Mad Mike,
Shoche,
The Happenings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Franke,
Excepter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sixth Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bauhaus,
The Five Americans,
Nils Olav,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
New Age Steppers,
Siglo XX,
Symarip,
Ponytail,
Guru Guru,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nas,
The Shadows of Knight,
F. McDonald,
Bill Wells,
KRS-One,
New York Dolls,
Eden Ahbez,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Pantaleimon,
John Holt,
The Red Krayola,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.