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 South Sudan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Barracudas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ossler,
Eli Mardock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Morten Harket,
Rhythm & Sound,
Supertramp,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
Arab on Radar,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Lynne,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
Idris Muhammad,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Count Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang of Four,
Half Japanese,
Warsaw,
Fear,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacques Brel,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
The Litter,
Lower 48,
Todd Terry,
LL Cool J,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scion,
Smog,
Arcadia,
Barrington Levy,
Shoche,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Style,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siglo XX,
Marmalade,
Porter Ricks,
The Smiths,
Echospace,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.