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 Chad and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 U.S. Maple to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gap Band,
Wally Richardson,
Ten City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
T.S.O.L.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moody Blues,
Talk Talk,
Andrew Hill,
The Gun Club,
Joey Negro,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Bananas,
Aswad,
Jeff Mills,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Inner City,
Joe Smooth,
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Green,
Albert Ayler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Ludus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Smog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Section 25,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fuzztones,
Fear,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Max Romeo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Style,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Bauhaus,
cv313,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bluetip,
Monks,
PIL,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.