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 Italy and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bob Dylan to the funk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Barrington Levy,
Tres Demented,
Urselle,
Little Man,
JFA,
The Offenders,
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
Loose Ends,
a-ha,
The Flesh Eaters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Moebius,
Rekid,
Max Romeo,
Joensuu 1685,
Derrick May,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Archie Shepp,
Babytalk,
Pantytec,
The Doors,
Accadde A,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra,
The Buckinghams,
Icehouse,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter and Kerry,
Y Pants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Siglo XX,
Zapp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joyce Sims,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.