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 Andorra and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
E-Dancer,
Pantaleimon,
Slick Rick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unwound,
Scott Walker,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick Morgan,
This Heat,
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gong,
Black Pus,
The Happenings,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Görl,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
Tres Demented,
The Smiths,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Hill,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rekid,
Oneida,
Bob Dylan,
Arthur Verocai,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
The Cramps,
Mo-Dettes,
Zero Boys,
The Real Kids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Suburban Knight,
Dark Day,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
Mantronix,
Sister Nancy,
Faust,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.