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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Agitation Free to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Sam Rivers,
Max Romeo,
the Normal,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
The Fire Engines,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
The Techniques,
Bobby Womack,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donny Hathaway,
Howard Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Tears for Fears,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fad Gadget,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Starr,
Symarip,
The Victims,
The Dave Clark Five,
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kayak,
Todd Rundgren,
48th St. Collective,
Yusef Lateef,
MC5,
Kenny Larkin,
F. McDonald,
Eve St. Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Star Department,
Wire,
Camouflage,
Camberwell Now,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Human League,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.