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 Marshall Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fugazi to the grime 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Depeche Mode,
Maleditus Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Warren Ellis,
June of 44,
Lalann,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Zeros,
Q65,
Juan Atkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pulsallama,
Laurel Aitken,
Second Layer,
Camberwell Now,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Terry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wasted Youth,
The Litter,
Grey Daturas,
The Tremeloes,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Max Romeo,
Byron Stingily,
Liliput,
The Slackers,
Matthew Halsall,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arab on Radar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
Severed Heads,
Joey Negro,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dennis Brown,
AZ,
Popol Vuh,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Animal Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
The Raincoats,
Howard Jones,
EPMD,
Bluetip,
Inner City,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.