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 Canada and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
D'Angelo,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Bang On A Can,
Rufus Thomas,
The Birthday Party,
PIL,
Lou Reed,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
Delta 5,
Lightning Bolt,
Marine Girls,
Joy Division,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aswad,
Pole,
Josef K,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fad Gadget,
Desert Stars,
Au Pairs,
Warren Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultra Naté,
Scientists,
Maurizio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rites of Spring,
Donald Byrd,
Minutemen,
Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Crime,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
The Monks,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crash Course in Science,
Brass Construction,
Man Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tom Boy,
Alison Limerick,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.